Tembovu

Thick, bleeding ears flick from the glimmering white filly to the three headed beast who protectively shifts before her. He is a ferocious looking Hellhound, to be certain— and makes even the elephant raise his head slightly. Generally, he does not find the companions of other intimidating, but three heads instead of one… well, that caused his dark, painful eyes to shift somewhat irritatedly back to Vadim.

Even the tribal-striped stallion was protectively moving between himself and Erthe. The antelope-marked behemoth opens his mouth to placate the aggressive actions of both father and companion. His initial reaction is annoyed empathy, for he understands the drive to protect a child.

But his mouth snaps shut as the Edge’s forest suddenly melts away to a foreboding wasteland. Ears pin flush with his head, eyes snapping entirely open from their slightly pain-creased squint. Giant head flies up as he glances around what briefly appears to be his old homelands— before the hallucination is gone.

Eye narrow on the father— he understood the need to protect Erthe. But attacking potential herd mate, unprovoked? “I would say the pleasure is mine, Vadim, but I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I should ask why you immediately attack the Glazier of the herd you seek to join—“ again his voice cuts off as he realizes the ache in his head has acutely stopped. Coincidentally when the hallucination appeared. His head raises, eyes no longer squinting against pain. And the drip from his ears has ceased. Confusion (but more importantly relief) coursed through him.

Only to be shattered as the pain returned tenfold, crashing through his skull with chaotic waves. Blood gushed from his ears that pin against his skull.

“At risk of sounding mad, could you use your magic again?” A pained, wry smile replaces the irritation that had covered his masked face, “I think— I believe it relieved some of this pain…” his voice trails off as Vadim explained the death of Erthe’s mother.

The elephant’s broad, pain-pinched face creases with concern at both the stallion and approaching filly. Empathy tugged his in chest, especially as the normally bright filly could barely muster her normal pluck as she approached and addressed him.

He intensely wishes now that he would have bitten his tongue earlier— a grieving father and daughter did not need an irritable stallion greeting them at the Edge’s borders. This cursed headache had him so prickly— he was not his usual, amiable self. “I am sorry for your loss, both of you— I know those words mean little in the face of such heartache,” he pauses, a knowing timbre in his voice.

A small, sad smile crosses his face as Erthe reveals she has been healed, and that he should be looked after as well. “I’m glad to hear that, little one,” his voice was warm and low, despite the lingering sadness in his painful face.

He turns his attention back to the protective sire, “I’m sorry for my less-than-warm greeting, Vadim. I am happy to welcome you and Erthe to the Edge.” He gently motions with his aching skull to a path leading beyond the chunks of glass wall, “Did you have a trade at the Basin that you wish to continue?”