Patrolling Hidden Falls was less complex than it had been back home; the land of my birth was such a wide expansion it had been challenging to maintain our territory every waking moment of every day. More often than not a few strangers would slip in from the outer waste; often these visitors went unnoticed for hours or even days. But here, in this lush valley surrounded by a natural wall—a looming boundary…there was little worry that Helovia’s biggest fools would try to mount a cliff. The only trespassers we had to fear beyond the hidden pathway were those of kindred talents, such as Pegasus and hybrids. As of yet, none had tried to invade our airspace, but I knew that such luck wouldn’t hold out forever.

Fina had heard Hawkeye first, she trilled loudly and I leaned right, turning toward the direction he’d bellowed. It wasn’t minutes later when his sunkissed frame came into view; the lad appeared to be standing watch, guarding our gateway. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him partaking in the joys of soldiers, and in truth this fellow seemed better suited for a warrior title than that of a serpent, but I wasn’t one to be prejudice against a personal choice in life.

“Hail brother!” Vocals are surprisingly cheery. Limbs uncurl to caress the stone below and glide this frame to a stop only a few feet from where he stood. The roar of water muffles the sound of hooves clipping against the grey slate—gold springs from where daggers touch, the old marks disappear to spring new prints as I turn to stand parallel with perhaps the only trustworthy creature in this whole land. Feathers slither shut and neck extends with warmed muzzle stretching to brush along his higher shoulder in soft greeting. Fina’s flaming wings dip her slender body low, talons pitched sideways to scrape fragments of stone from the cliff face before she climbs high again.

His first words are a greeting and faint concern for some inconvenience. Polite, though entirely unnecessary beyond formality. ‘Tis well’ I wanted to say, Hawkeye was more warrior by appearance and duty than many who claimed rank of it, his very frame seemed posed for battle, shaped in a mother’s womb for the act of honorable warfare. (If there was such a thing as honorable anymore.) What Hawkeye said next loosens my well-meant grin that seems to almost always be on the verge of bursting forth. The feathered stallion’s worries and concerns are important, and I give all my attention to what the man has to say.

It is only when Hawkeye reveals his desire that I’m able to offer up another willing smile and approving nod right after he finishes speaking. “Ye shall have it.” Of course I’d give my blessing for this warrior to seek whatever his heart desires. Seele had placed him in the position of Sleuth, an honorable title for those that had a talent for creeping in the shadows, or lurking behind a careful mask of deception in order to gain information. It was obvious though, Hawkeye was not a fair match for the delicate and sometimes shifty work of spies. “Train with your battle brothers and see position rise higher in the ranks.” My colead sister would just have to find herself a different Sleuth; perhaps the one she called Ghost would serve well in the position. The girl seemed keen on the shadows and if rumor proved true she could be relied upon for solid information.

OCC: You'll have to drop rank into the spot of Tiro ^^; to start out.

I had no inkling of worry that Hawkeye could do anything to disappointment me, of all the things I had to mull about on a daily basis—that concern was not among them. Quite naturally my eyes followed his motions toward the distant hills, we gazed out over our valley, for it was him our kin and lord who owned these lands…not me. His comment pulled my attention, “Ye says true.” This place was calm, filled with a vacant spaces and almost unrealistic scenery. Stroked and dabbed, painted with the brush of perfection.

When my soldier friend mentioned that his hope was that our home stayed in its lax state, I wanted to speak up and add some breathless addition of wisdom (peace never lasted long, not in a world were so many relied upon the fingers of magic and betrayal.) But what right did I have to break his desire to pray for a more peaceful world—a better world? The answer was none, “There will be water if the gods will it.” An old crumb of truth that my father used to say, because rain in the desert was a rare occurrence and without the grace of sun we’d have all died of thirst long ago, or else been chased from the savagery. Yet, they allowed us to retain our lives. Just as Earth had willed our homeland into creation when it was most needed.

Though it was hard to compare two stones that weren’t alike, this wasn’t some sandy haven where not a drop fell from heaven except on the rarest of occurrence; our home was considered tropical enough to receive ample water on an almost daily basis. Hawkeye had already leapt from the cliff, I remained posed on the edge. Looking over my new home that was becoming less and less unappealing.