we are one in the same
you take all of the pain away

Unaware of the fact that the youth had rather abnormal pursuers, the Prince had taken to the clay banks just beyond the ocean waters. It held his scratched work designs far better than the shifting, lightweight sands that composed most of the Throat, and the cool breeze off the ocean's surface was certainly far from disagreeable with the climate he had known all his life. No matter how allegiances shifted, rulers came and went, Gods fell and ascended, Cera had always been a part of the Dragon's Throat. He had buried his heart into the land, and never sought to reclaim it. Nobody would be able to take away his pride, his love for the herd and its successes. Leaving would only come at the hands of forceful ejection, and they'd have to strip him of his wings and leave him dying if they did not want him attempting to return. Ilaria rumbled in pleased agreement, and the two shared a fond glance from the makeshift blueprints Cera had made of the sands.

The days were long and tiring, plodding on with no variation or diversity to them. The sun rose and fell as it always did, and Cera toiled onward in a similar fashion. There was no drama, no pressure or sense of impending doom. Certainly the Prince enjoyed the reprieve, but he at times felt lost and without meaning. It came and went, but it seemed the persevere as time went slowly on in a haze of sand and sun. When was the last time he'd explored Helovia for any reason aside from patrol? Had he accidentally isolated himself, purely because he was too used to being lonely as a child? It was a depressing thought, one that the Golden Prince chased away with a few more careful lines drawn into the clay.

There is a pair approaching, darling. Cera hummed appreciatively in response, flicking his eyes briefly to the horizon, allowing Ilaria to do the inquiring and investigating on her own behalf for the moment. His plan was almost complete, and his attention was drawn to the images coming to life, eyes flickering from one end to the other as it formed inside his head. The concentration was only broken when Ilaria gave a little squeak of surprise, her voice flooding right back into his head, comfortable and familiar. Sohalia! And... she trailed off, her discomfort flooding into Cera, enough to lift his head and turn his emerald eyes to the one she wouldn't name. "Mesec," he murmured quietly to himself. The boy who had attempted to console him concerning Hototo's death, back when it was too raw a wound for a stranger to be prodding at.

Regret swamped the boy for a spare moment, and he turned with sunny smile naturally blooming on his face. They were not quite facing him, so he called out on wordless whinny, attracting their attention by shooting his wings high into the air, tips trembling and curling with an almost childish excitement. "Sohalia!" he called joyously, Ilaria clambering down from where she'd been sunning herself on his back to play landmarker where his drawing was. Once she was secured, the Forger went running towards the pair, long limbs thin but sure as he jogged towards them. His eyes were warm, a memory of lush grasses not found in their homeland, face glowing from within as he approached them. "And Mesec," he amended as he approached, not familiar enough with the other young stallion to have called his name so blatantly, though with his loving smile a stranger would never have guessed that.

Cera loved too fully, too deeply. He loved everything and everyone, and he let them in to walk or trample the plains of his heart as they pleased. The Sun had taught him forgiveness, patience, and it had left its imprint far beyond their initial introduction. Or perhaps he had simply always been that way, with a heart too large for his impossibly small body. "What brings you this way?" Cat he was not, but curious he certainly was. Eyes drifted to the Transcended with a boyish grin, a little shy. Though he outranked her currently, she would always be his mentor in memory. "Would you like to see my newest draft? It's an irrigation system," he breathed, excitement bleeding into his voice. Then he stepped closer, offering his muzzle to the woman with eyes growing impossibly warmer, more affectionate. "I'm glad to see you've returned, are you well?" Whispered more for her sake than his own.

Unwilling to make Mesec feel unwanted or spurned, the painted boy then turned to him with tilted head and kindly smile, ages different from their first meeting. "How are you faring in the Throat? It can be awfully hot for a dark coat," he mused, eyes crinkling and brow drawing close with very conspicuous concern. Cera had never cared to learn how to shutter his emotions, he found it dishonest.

@[Sohalia] && @[Mesec]