No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
Finding activities for Isara that were both educational and harmless was proving to be quite the challenge – especially with the ridiculous number of colts running around with the idea (presumably) of pursuing her.
Constant assignments, patrols and rigorous exercise programs were none to helpful either; it was difficult to keep an eye trained to her when he was straying from the border on a semi-regular basis. That was where his companion came in, much to Veci’s disgust. Hector knew firsthand the power of testosterone, and he had seen the fluttering baby-blue eyes of the boy marked like the Mother of Cripples Companions... The giant had sworn himself to the task of parenting the little filly – and that was what he intended to do in its entirety, no matter how ill-suited he was.
Is she well? The stallion called through his connection with the Boggart, even before the thicket he had left them in the evening before was within range of his eyes. There was no answer and a sickening sense of foreboding twisted his stomach... VECI.
Of course the ghost could hear his partner well enough, but he resented enormously having to babysit the girl all the time – without touching either her thoughts or dreams, or those she found to talk to. He rolled around her amusedly, silently, allowing the stallion no access to their bond. He could feel the rise he was getting, the fear (which had become one of Hector’s greatest) of Isara finding danger, and revelled in its bounty.
As he homed in on the flowering mimosa which had more or less become their now permanent residence within the Throat, Hector saw the patterned filly’s unique coat through the branches – the sparse canopy – and too, the rippling cloud which was the wicked Boggart with her. You will be the death of me creature... he sighed, breath heaving in the aftermath of panic; folding enormous wings across his lofty spine so that any breeze (though rare they were this late in Birdsong), might cool his sweat-sodden sides. Veci sneered bitterly.
Lips moved down towards the teal veins beneath her eye, passing gently across the smooth fur to perhaps stir her from sleep. "Isa..." he tried to whisper, though the sound rumbled regardless, deep in his chest; extraordinary tenderness resonating with every beat of his heart. Rumour through the herd suggested a morning of storytelling by those in the talking-ranks - personally, he was hardly interested in such nonsense, but in the interests of the child he felt they should attend. "It’s time to wake, Isa." He persisted until she roused – the relentlessness of one forged to weather any fight, and guided her briskly towards the lake so that they both could freshen up.
It had been a long night at work, and sweat was rapidly drying into itchy white crystals through his coat (he didn’t need that as an irritation on top of squirming children).
After a long time in silence – quite the way Hector preferred – he turned and offered the usual, clumsy smile that Isara exclusively attracted (it was a mish-mash of forced happiness, true care and disinclination and it was hers alone). "We are going to Dragon’s Blood this morning..." he explained, pulling an old feather easily from her wing that seemed to jut out gawkily. "There will be other foals." The latter was mainly a pep-talk for himself, and following he drew a long, hesitant breath. "Let us go."
Following a visible trail as it curled through the gravel away from the water, the stallion led his adoptive progeny in the direction of the ancient tree.
As they neared, fiery-coloured eyes traced the collective silhouette of a gathered group. Sun, give me strength... he turned quietly, and passed an overly thoughtful glance by Isara. "Run along, would not want you to miss out on anything." As the filly parted from his side, a mare caught his notice. His brow furrowed quizzically and he turned the nearest eye closer.
Veci... does she have wings where she should have ears? The Boggart who had not been paying attention, was suddenly intrigued by the suggestion and his invisible form slithered a little closer to see. Yes! he lied with a conniving grin lathering his thoughts. Entirely misled by his companion, Hector inched discreetly closer and muttered within range, "What use have you of stories then, if silly wings are your ears..."
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
[O] Now, this is a story all about how... [Storytelling]
