Seemingly out of nowhere the antlered stallion hears his name, the voice rising from the pristine blanket of clouds that stretches out around him, frozen in time like a calm, immaculate ocean that has been lifted into the heavens. Rohan’s ears twist through the mess of his thick forelock, the bright green of his eyes sweeping over the white of the mountain to rest on the mare—dark and black against the glowing whiteness and light, looking at him directly with the deep blue of her eyes.

“Sialia…” the Warlander murmurs in recognition. Perhaps a more practical part of him wonders why she is here, where she has come from—hadn’t he looked there before, where she is standing now?—but a larger part of him is far too distracted to ponder on such technicalities.

She is here, that is all that matters. A beautiful mare, an enchantress, and a witch of her game—even though many weeks have passed since their meeting, the stallion remembers her. His mind is quick and sharpened, prone to the dainty lines and voluptuous curves of a female’s body, slave like any man to the drive of testosterone and sinful desires that it spawns. He would be hard-pressed to forget any of them.

Sialia’s voice drifts to him again, far more seamless than he remembers, too perfect and smooth in its lilt—but perhaps time has worn the memory, and so for the sake of not wasting time, he doesn’t deliberate its strangeness for long. “Too long, sweetheart,” his brown lips crook into a roguish smirk, Rohan’s deep voice rumbling to broaden out through the space between them, which he is keen to diminish as lean, hairy legs move forward. He steps through the soft snow with his usual sweeping swagger, hardly delicate or elegant in his gait.

“Where have you been hiding?” One side of his brow rises accusingly, though there is a playfulness in his expression, only slightly wounded that she has kept herself from him since their departure in the Threshold. Not that it would truly be her fault, but he has since wandered through several of Helovia’s wilds, surely their paths would have crossed should she have wanted it. “You can’t keep yourself locked up in your snowy mountains forever,” he chuckles cynically, his large figure coming to rest in front of her, comfortable and at ease in this beautiful place they have found themselves in, despite its oddity.


tag; @[Sialia]
“Speech.”

Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,

but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see,

but your soul you must keep,

t o t a l l y f r e e.