The only trouble with such a call - that perhaps with a little age and practice Cera would learn - was that waiting was the important part. Had he rephrased his words already once to Ampere, as he would have to rephrase them once more for the WildFire? How many times would his words be repeated and altered before all who would eventually come, had? No gold-boy, Gaucho would say if there were time. Call, then wait. Wait for all to arrive before speak.
Having returned from yet another spar meant to condition the former-Sultan into the battle-ready form he was used to, Gaucho's dark body was covered in a dense layer of sweat. Foam lingered between his thighs and chest, as sweat literally dripped from his wing joints and ears. The dark patches around his eyes were made even darker with the effort he had obviously exerted only recently, though he looked better for it. Bruises and perspiration always seemed to highlight Gaucho's features, rather than detract from them.
The sight of Ampere and Cera below made the WildFire who, was planning on paroling, concerned. Having heard Cera's call upon the wind, but none of the subsequent conversation, the dun dipped down from the skies to elegantly land near the two.
Ampere and Cera. Both deserved much from him by way of explanation. How much did they know? Had Ampere heard of his return? Had Cera heard of his visit to the Sun God? Surely the blazing markings that now adorned his antlers were an indication that something had changed, but would the boy know what? As his fire-laced wings folded neatly to his soaked flanks, his stormy gaze passed firmly upon each of them.
There was much to be said, but it would wait. Gaucho's faith in the golden boy was unwavering, but even so, he found it difficult to pull his eyes from the Blue. Lingering there, his steely gaze hungrily and with an obvious intimacy scanned her form. Snorting gently, as if to try and distract himself, the WildFire's eyes sought out Ampere's. He remembered everything now - the darkness, the caves, the wraiths. Ampere's insistence that there were intruders at their door.... that was when the beckoning had begun. Could it be that she had something to do with it ... ?
In his antlers amidst the glow of the Sun God's markings, Mara hissed. Women were such an easy distraction for his primitive mind, but her concern and attention was with Cera. Rocking side to side to fully pull Gaucho from his mesmerized state by shaking his blocky head, she mentally reminded him of why he had landed.
Snorting again, he decisively shifted his gaze to Cera - a gaze which was no longer hostile as it had been before, but instead was filled with recognition. Gaucho nodded slightly to the boy, out of respect and remembrance. "Cera." He began, his voice even and strong. "Why you call?"
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