Cera arrived quickly, although Gaucho knew he would. The boy had never let him down, regardless of how many times he had failed the golden boy, knowingly or not. As the paint arrived, landing easily and still with a youthful vigor in his step, Gaucho was visible stirred by just how much he had grown. Although he had interacted with Cera in the Woods, his lack of memories made recalling the event difficult. When the Sun God had restored his memories it was almost as if a haze had fallen over everything else - he remembered seeing Cera ... speaking briefly? And then .. it was like watching a movie, but one that took place underwater. Things were blurred, distorted, and without sound or colour. He had flown away? Had he hurt the boy? Gaucho couldn't remember, yet as the youth (although he no longer was) spoke, Gaucho wondered if he truly was angry. Had he just imagined it? Was his huffing away at the herd meeting fueled by something else? His primitive mind wished that to be the case, to simply move on to the message that the Sun God had given him, but Mara advised against this. Telllllll himmm She urged softly but demandingly in his mind. Although Gaucho huffed, he complied.

"Gaucho ... " He began, unsure of how to start. For a moment, his mind spun a scenario where Cera was his son, trained in the use of his language as Rhoa and Ivezho were, where all could be explained easily. Whatever bond was between the two felt broken, fragmented. Language wasn't the only barrier the he felt between himself and the golden youth, but it was the most obvious one. "Gaucho forced to return ... place before Throat." He almost described it as home, but it hadn't been that for a long time. Not since Gaucho had bled for the Throat, and fought and pledged to protect its sands and its citizens. "Gaucho tricked to do something there, then memories taken away. Gaucho find way back to Helovia, but not remember anything or anyone." Awkwardly the WildFire tried to find Cera's gaze and hold it. Explainations weren't his strong suit, and apologies were even harder. Was the boy old enough to understand? Was Gaucho even conveying what he meant to say? That he was sorry? That he would never leave the Throat, or anyone in it, willingly? "-Not remember Cera in Woods.."

Unable to think of how better to explain himself, the WildFire lowered his head into a posture that was nearly submissive. He did not need for it to move very far down however, for Cera had grown nearly as tall as He. The Sun God's symbols glowed softly, colouring Mara with a warm golden light as the stallion repeated the words Mara urged him to say. "Gaucho sorry he left. Sorry he left Cera."

Although Gaucho's mind would not admit it, his heart knew it to be true: Cera was no longer a child. If it wasn't obvious by how Cera had filled out physically, how scars and muscle now lined a frame that was once small and frail, it was obvious in his words. He was not a wounded child, even though part of him might feel that way. He was charismatic and forgiving, he was understanding and driven by a rationality that seemed to override his emotions.

As Cera's muzzle gently brushed against his own, the Wildfire exhaled softly, raising his gaze to the stallion. He was no longer a child, and certainly no longer one he could think of as his own. He was a gaezo, an okeo. And as Cera spoke of Midas, the dun realized that perhaps he was closer to Cera than he ever had been to his painted step-father (although Gaucho did mentally note that he ought to go and see Midas sooner rather than later). Gaucho didn't know about those who had left Cera - certainly Midas leaving the Throat hadn't even been considered as a reason for Cera's distress - but loyalty was something Gaucho understood. It went deeper than having those around you simply go some where else. It was about unspoken promises to always stay, to always be near if needed. Those were the ones broken - and they didn't always take distance to break.

Gaucho listened patiently, understanding the simplicity of Cera's words and the wall of weight and meaning behind them. There were moments were more words would not help to convey an idea or feeling - if it was one that you didn't understand in its most simple expression, it was one you wouldn't understand at all. But Gaucho did.

"Cera strong." Gaucho commented finally, his voice deep and smooth. He implicitly knew somehow, or perhaps just naively believed, that hardened or not, Cera would always make the right choices. He might think himself unyielding, but he would yield when necessary. He would be hard when necessary too. He would be Cera, and the Wildfire knew that that would always be right.

As Cera knelt, Gaucho raised his flaming wings to cast a warm ambient light upon the golden knight. Mara slithered down Gaucho's antlers, to his shoulder, leg, and finally to the sands where she moved towards Cera's muzzle, raising her pale body up to rub against his velvety nose affectionately. She had missed him as well.

"Gaucho visit Sun God ... " He began, then paused.

The other crafter was needed.

Turning his head away so that he would not be yelling into Cera's ear, Gaucho called loudly: "BUUUUUUUUUUUUCE"

[I'm not skipping Cera, Gaucho's just answer his question now that Buce is here. Hope that's okay! Not trying to skip!]

Gaucho was glad that Buce arrived quickly. He could feel a flutter in his breast as his mind bounced backwards to the conversation he had with the Sun God. Protecting the Throat was almost within his grasp - he only needed to do a few things first before his plan would come to fruition.

The Throat needed to remain safe, defensible, protected. Cera and Buce would help herald that vision into reality.

"Gaucho meet with Sun God on Island." He began, relying heavily on Mara to assist with word order. The snake happily complied, slithering back from her position at Cera's hooves, up Gaucho's leg, shoulder and neck. She gripped his antler with her tail, and allowed her white body to fall down his face, resting finally on his muzzle. Gaucho turned his head towards Cera as he continued: "You remember invasion. Remember the death. Remember Wraiths, and darkness and doubles. " Doubles was the only way he could make sense of the dopplegangers. "Then your vision from Sun God ... Throat needs to be protected. So Gaucho go to Sun God. Gaucho have a plan, and Sun God say he will help."

Lowering his voice, he looked around to ensure that they were alone. With a dark smile, the Wildfire finally spoke the words aloud that only their diety had heard him say: "Gaucho will make Throat a qile-. An Island." He let his words sink in. An island. Gaucho was not stupid, he knew how exclusionary it would sound, but it was not. At least, that was not its intention - protection was.

In effect, he was advocating for a limitation of freedom for the betterment of all. How conservative.

"First Gaucho need a bucket. Sun God ask Gaucho to do things to get magic. I do that part. But-" On his nose, Mara suddenly wriggled and turned her body to stare into one of his eyes, clearly communicating mentally with him. Gaucho's nostrils flared as he listened to his bonded's silent voice, concluding with a nod which made the snake's body jump. "Pegasus can go back and forth because we fly. Others can not, but that why Gaucho needs you two. We make a boat ... gates ... keys. We not limit if they come and go, just how they do it."

Was that clear? Maybe not. The Wildfire wished he could open his mind to the two and just show them the vision he had: A boat that would go back and forth between the Island and the body of Helovia with gates at either end. Members of the Throat would have keys that opened the gates so that they could go back and forth as they pleased, or bring home new recruits. Eventually when the Throat wall was finished, these gates would be the only ways that non-flighted creatures could enter the Throat. His family would finally be safe then.

"Members of Throat get keys. Keys open gates. But first we need boat."

Stepping back from the pair, Gaucho placed a golden amulet on the ground. Lowering his antlered skull, flame began to pour out of his antlers and into the amulet, superheating it, but somehow not shattering it. The amulet pulsed warmly. Lowering his antlers, Gaucho scooped up the trinket, moving towards Cera. "Sun God give to Gaucho. Gaucho give to Cera. Both think you are best as Forger." His voice was warm and sincere as he placed the amulet at Cera's hooves. He didn't think Cera had magic of his own ... and if the Wildfire couldn't be around to protect the Golden Prince while he worked on this project, the very least he could do was this.

Looking to Buce, the Wildfire pulled a glowing conglomeration of leather that was nestled under his wing. He dumped it at Buce's hooves, having no means to place it upon him. "Sun God give to Gaucho for you." The Wildfire didn't know why Buce would want the bags, but he trusted the deity and so asked no follow up questions. Hopefully his newest Crafter would know what to do with the bags. Or at the very least want them. The leather glowed softly, and were Buce to unpack the haphazardly placed together straps, he would find that the contraption would easily hook around his shoulders and wings, harnessing a number of bags of various sizes around his neck, shoulders and back. "Cera have magic from the Sun God - Cera can use his mind to shape metal using Dragon's Fire." He mumbled, nodding his head towards the direct of the Seer's fire. Gaucho wasn't entirely sure how it worked, since the only magic he had ever possessed as part of his rank was fighting-related. "Now you have that magic too. Cera will help."

Backing up, the Wildfire fell silent for a moment, trying to still the excitement that was rapidly growing within him. All he needed was the bucket to get started ... he was so close. But he was sure that the two would have questions that would need answered before they started. "For practice, Buce make bucket now. Cera show you how. "

Gaucho, who had never possessed crafting magic watched Cera's display with interest. Sohalia had possessed the ability before she took charge of the herd, but the only magic granted to Gaucho by their deity with regard to his rank had been the ability to shake the ground with a stomp of his hoof. It was effective in battle, but could not create useful or everlasting creations. Perking his ears forward, he watched as Cera expertly created a bucket that would easily do the job. His words conferred instruction, but with a warmth and sincerity Gaucho had grown to associate with the golden prince. Next his gaze turned to Buce who did ... more or less what Cera had. His bucket was not nearly so round or sturdy looking (in fact, it looked as though if placed on a flat surface it might tip over) but that didn't matter. Both would hold the oil he needed.

Flicking his dark tail, he accepted both buckets gladly before turning to his crafters. A puzzled look appeared on his features as he considered the Sun God's words. He truly hadn't meant to isolate his herd ... perhaps he needed to think longer on his plan. For now, the Crafter's still had their work set out for them.

"Thank you.""Lots of work to be done. Need to build gates - one on each side. And keys. Also need to finish wall." He looked at each sternly, not wanting to find either shirking their responsibilities but deciding that neither would. "My sons will help gather stone for wall. If need more help, ask. This top priority. The safety of our family is top priority."