The pegasus soared high as he covered the earth. Cold air bit at his wings and, as he drew farther and farther north, the air became too thin for him to fly so high in the clouds. Carefully, Einarr let the old drifts bring him towards the earth. Sienna eyes scanned below him, his massive wings keeping him soaring easily in this lower altitude. This was the perfect way for Einarr to clear his mind, to think clearly. For Einarr was a thinking creature, a silent intellect hidden behind his broken speech. Many could write him off as plain stupid for the way his tongue staggered and stumbled over the foreign tongue of Helovia's common language. It was untrue, however, and he was able to show his true intelligence with those that shared his native tongue. Gaucho, his khal; Rhoa, his herdmate; Mordecai, his daughter; and even Megaera had picked up on some of the words that transferred between father and daughter. In the sky, however, he did not have to speak to anyone. He was free to think clearly and liberally, and his heart and mind soared just as his physical body did.

As he flew, his eyes fell on the galloping form of another. Einarr tilted his head some, wondering why the creature was moving so quickly. Keen eyes flicked towards the ocean and a hot, sudden wave of panic struck his breast. The stag was going to kill himself in the freezing water! Quickly, Einarr tucked his wings in to his sides and divebombed for the stallion. Einarr watched as the boy sputtered and stopped, moving away from the water for an instant. The motion was just before Einarr landed. The inky stallion broke ground on cloven hooves hard, his large body puffing up and his wings snapping open. He had landed between the stag and the water, and his eyes were wild with the concern and confusion he had felt. "What troubles you!?" He demanded, eyes locked on the smaller, painted stallion with determination for him to answer.

Moments past in silence as Einarr stared down at the smaller stallion. His breathing was hard and deep, but he settled his body some. Massive wings tucked into his ribcage and his muscles relaxed some. The boy with the twisted horn before him did not seem angry for the inky blood rider's intrusion, in fact he seemed quite the opposite. As the stag looked up at him, tears brimmed in his black eyes and fell over his dark lashes. The larger man took a step back, head lifting some and ears pressing forward. Confusion laced through Einarr's mind as the stallion before him cried. He had never seen a grown man cry before. But, if the boy was trying to kill himself, then perhaps in that desperation anyone could be moved to tears.

Suddenly, all of the stallion's words came out in a rush of breath and Einarr tilted his head some. "Einarr not hurt you. Einarr help. Killing yourself is not the answer," The titan moved his head to motion towards the water behind him, before taking a step forward. "Why your heart is such....athohharar?" Einarr paused between his last word and the rest of his sentence, unable to recall the word that covered what he meant in the Helovian tongue. "Why sad?" He asked directly after, though the word sad did not even shed a light on what he was truly asking. This stallion was in distress before him, defeated, collapsed and Einarr wanted to know why so he could help.

The moments in Einarr's life where he was quiet, soothing, and comforting, were far and few between. However, they seemed to be coming in full-force now. Since Mordecai's birth and Histe's death, Einarr had offered comfort and close protection to a few that seemed to desperately need it. This stallion was no exception before him, as he stumbled over words and cried. Einarr knew that tears could be caused many different ways, but there seemed to be a pit inside of this boy with the twisted horn's stomach that just let everything he felt come out in waves. Even as Einarr lowered himself to help this stag, and bring him in for comfort, the black guardian was thankful that he had a hold over his own emotions that could hold him back from making such a scene of himself. He was a blood rider, a warrior made to be of stone, unbreakable and hard. He fit the bill well.

First, the stallion returned Einarr's gesture. He pressed a wet cheek into his muzzle and Einarr breathed over it slowly, the warm breath mixing with the salty, cold northern air and creating a puff of steam. Einarr pressed his muzzle in and ran it down the length of the stallion's cheek, hoping this simple motion would comfort the stallion. Einarr could not express the comfort he wanted--needed--to extend to this stallion in words, for his knowledge of the common tongue was obviously low and broken. He would have to do it in actions, in gestures, and for some reason this did not make the stallion falter or hesitate at all as he engaged the painted boy. Einarr moved forward, just as Ashamin moved into him. If Einarr was not wrapped up in a mind to help this boy, he may have smiled or smirked at this happening between them. Ashamin, smaller and slight of body, fit into Einarr's body as he pressed himself into the inky warrior's chest.

Einarr would hold the boy as long as he needed. This embrace was meant to empower and comfort the youngling. Einarr had no selfish intent here. He was merely doing what needed to be done. In the process of saving(or so he thought) this stallion from death, Einarr felt a fondness grow for him. After this day, he would be certain to call Ashamin his friend.

Quickly the painted unicorn backpedaled and Einarr let his wings drop away. His crownless head lifted high and he looked down with unreadable red-brown eyes at Ashamin as he spoke. The boy spoke of his father and the strength the stallion had, and flashes of Einarr's father filled his primitive mind. Nizho was a stallion to be envied, just as Einarr suspected Ashamin's father to be. "Strength is one's own. No two have same strength. Ashamin have his own strength, not father's." Einarr spoke his broken words carefully, but confidently, for Ashamin to absorb. As strong as this stag's father may have been, and as admirable as it may seem, Ashamin could never be that. Ashamin could only be strong in an individual way, carefully carved and laid out for him. His destiny was where his strength waited, not in the shadow of his father.

Einarr listened as Ashamin spoke. Carefully, and almost unknown to him, his postures straightened and his chest puffed. The stallion before him had transformed from the guarded, terrified boy he had landed in front of and saved from himself. A sense of pride waved over the guardian, and he outstretched his wing once more and touched the apex of it to Ashamin's shoulder. "Einarr train Ashamin to fight. Ashamin must also train himself. Condition, strengthen." He nodded, pulling his wing back in to rest against his ribs. "Einarr must return to Throat. Einarr must complete daily duties. Mordecai will wonder where Einarr gone to." The black stallion nodded, mostly to himself, but still noded all the same.

"Einarr return for Ashamin, here, in just a moon's time." Einarr's voice was deep and dense, showing all the promise he had in his valiant chest. It was a promise he planned to keep, for the sake of this boy before him. "Be strong, imesh lajak." Einarr finished, reaching out to touch his muzzle to the painted one's cheek. Turning his body, the stallion's powerful wings extended and flapped. Within moments, he was in the air, pulling himself higher and higher on the warm currents between the cold, rushing air. Sienna eyes narrowed some, protecting his vision from the biting wind. In his wake, gulls flapped and cawed their displeasure at his sudden movements. A smile, bold and true and unusual on his lips, grew wider and wider at the hope within his chest.