A pale ghost with gold lining, he is silent and contemplative as he aims to return to his home. His meeting with Midas had left him saddened but sure of himself, sure of his place in the world and where he intended to go from there. So he had looked upon the rotting forestry, and with a swell of a breath, he stepped forth into its domain. As he walked, he reminisced. All his demons lay within the circles of these endless, dark pines. They would forever remain there, but it mattered little to him. He would conquer them in time. Head bowed to brush a soft breath against the scar on his breast, remembering vividly the afternoon that had created it. Ilaria made a wounded sound and buried deep into his mane, one of her first memories of him as a cub being his screams as he'd withered on the ground, helpless to fight against the poison within. Unable to help him. Realizing he was harming her just as much with these thoughts, the stallion crooned softly at her, turning to let her wrap her paws round his face in a desire for comfort. When she had calmed, he placed her back upon his shoulders, and continued south.
Of the shadows he knew, even if only in nightmares that forced the memorization upon him, he had not anticipated a flash of color, racing past. Alert, he turned and instinctively began to follow. Emeralds brightened and a happy chuckle escaped as he recognized the form he was trailing, giddily racing forth to meet her. "Ama!" he coos, wings extending for a gentle hop and glide towards her, face warm and joyous as his eyes lay upon her. She was an endearing individual, and he recalled how they'd met, basking in the presence of their Lord. What was she doing, so young, in a forest such as this one? He feared for her, knowing what had happened to him when he'd been such an age and wandering about. He swore he would make sure she would come to no harm with him there to protect her.
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