It had been a long while, seasons, since he had traveled to the Threshold. He had not been here since… since he had become King? There had been other duties that had called attention and taken his time, so he had neglected the Threshold. He hadn’t consciously missed it; but, as heavy ivory hooves carried the man through the faintly familiar trees, he found that he had missed it. This was a place of renewal, of beginnings, of blank slates. This was a place where every new face, despite their past, could create, bond to companions, earn magic, fight gods, make families.

His mind soured at the last thought. How long ago had it been when he had walked through the Threshold? When he, in his great bulk, had been stuck between two trees in the denser parts of the forest. And a golden mare and spotted man had greeted him— he had chosen the way of the cliffs. How different would his life had been if he had chosen the mountains?

He shook his head, there was no use mulling over such possibilities. The past was done, he knew that better than most. Had he not, personally, laid to rest his own demons when he journeyed to Helovia? That had been his intention, anyway.

Head flew up, eyes probing the trees, nostrils flared wide as the sucked in the cool air. That scent. He knew that scent, that was a smell from Dorobo. One he had not sensed in so very long… Violet eyes and a dry laugh flashed through his mind, and suddenly he was moving. Trotting briskly, heavy body shaking the earth as he wound through the trees. He was much more adept at it now than he had been so many moons ago.

His hooves halted in water, sending a spray of glittering droplets into the chilled air. Blue eyes were wide as they stared. “Aji?” The question was incredulous and ecstatic and sorrowful; so many layers in those two, familiar syllables. “What—how? Does Dorobo stand?” his chaotic questions suddenly led to a drop in his barrel— was the Banderi marching here?!

But, despite the panic that threatened, he took sweeping strides towards one of the few men he trusted with his life, great neck thrown out without hesitation, aimed to sweep the man in an elephantine hug. “It is good to see you here, A—” but his words are suddenly cut short by the high-pitched giggle of a foal.

Eyes widen further (if it was possible), “You’re a father?!” His low voice was uncharacteristically high in the cumulative surprises sprung upon him by fate. And a smile further broke on his masked face, lighting his eyes and and further highlighting his shock.

But, sadly, it was short-lived.

Navy eyes darken as they study the colt over Kiuaji’s slender, barred back. This was no foal of Dorobo. This golden, red-speckled child was of Helovia. And those markings of the eyes… There was no other with those markings. His face folds in on itself, becoming impassive as the foal circles and questions. If this was her child, then surely she would be soon to follow.

He takes a half step away from his childhood friend, ears tilting backwards as the euphoria of seeing Aji and the dread of known that woman was soon to appear battle within him. The thought to leave and take the barred-man to the Edge right now crosses his mind… but they he could not leave her any foal to fend for itself on the edges of the wilds. They were barely within Helovia, here.

He sighed, gently nudging his friend’s sloping shoulder— a shoulder that had many mistaking him for a mare rather than the deadly poisonous stallion he was. “I am glad to see you, my friend,” he murmured lowly, before shifting his eyes to the unfortunately inquisitive foal, “You would do well to not lose your mother, little one. I know she’ll be worried about you,” the way he spoke the words implied a deeper knowledge of the colt’s dam. Indeed, Rexanna, with this being her first live child, would be the ever-watchful mother.