He was filled with grief, despite clinging to the positive thoughts of his daughter and mate. As he completed yet another duty on the borders of his home, he sought them out, intercepting the filly that was his mischievous daughter as she tried once again to sneak out of the lands. Managing to distract her from her wants to escape the lands, as well as distract himself from his own grief, the stallion picked up a game of chase with the sky-stained belle. They galloped and bucked together across the plains, and Azzuen admired his daughter’s improving ability to lift herself from the ground, she was even gliding short distances with ease now. He showed her more exercises she could do to strengthen the muscles around her wing joints, though they would have to grow larger still to enable to truly fly. But seeing her innocent mind absorb his words filled him with joy and pride, and they made their way to the lake of the lands, eager for a drink in this forever lingering heat. It was remarkable, Azzuen thought, how such simple things could distract him from his grief so easily.

Nudging the filly with wet whiskers, Azzuen asked her, “where’s your mother?”. The filly shifted her weight, not meeting his eye as she guiltily informed him that she had slipped away from her mother’s side (again). Azzuen couldn’t help but chuckle, though he gave her a gentle nip upon her nape as well, and he knew that Cassiopeia wouldn’t have allowed Cirrus to drift from her side if she was truly concerned about the filly’s ability. After all, the filly had both of their blood running in her veins, and at least his bloodlines gave an inherent disrespect for rules while young and foolish. Cirrus, in attempts to distract her father from chastising her again, bounded into the shallows (though they reached up past her knees), and invited him closer. The stallion smiled, though he let a deep baritone leave his maw, an echoing call for his mate to come enjoy the water with them – and also a reassurance that Cirrus was with him. Stepping forth, he flapped his wings, enjoying the breeze made from the motion on his wet hide. Relief from the heat was hard to find, but they were fortunate here, in their little Oasis.

The sure cure to the dark thoughts and abysmal memories of his beloved brother was indeed the precious time he was able to treasure with his daughter, and his mate. The gloriously roan mistress elegantly arrived at the scene, and undeniable happiness swelled within the muscular chest of the honourable brute. The hue of his irises frolicked playfully between the same tone of his daughter’s electric blue, and the loving, passionate indigo of his lover’s silken hide. Willowy flutes caught her tones, and he impishly confirmed her words, playfully splashing with his sky-blue daughter, unable to hold in another chuckle as the young cherubic belle earned a chastising scrutiny from her dam.

The closer the slender femme got to Azzuen, the more calmness seemed to wash over him in rhythmic tidal waves. She was his cure; there was no doubt to it. Her wise and beautiful countenance, the way in which she delicately and purposefully carried herself, her uncanny ability to just always know what to say or do to make him feel better – this was why he loved her, this and all the other reasons he had discovered previously. Charred maw ran along her own, and he slung his chin over her arched nape and gave her a small embrace, simply unable to resist the urge to show his affection for her. Her query was structured well enough that the sky-hued belle frolicking in the shallows would not know the deeper currents that ran with it, but of course Azzuen knew and understood the entirety of what his mate was asking.

“I have been well, keeper of my heart. Time heals all wounds, among other things.” Roguish and cheeky the stallion nipped at the indigo mare’s slender flanks, more than ready to gambol around with her at the Secret Grove if she so desired, or gallop along the shoreline of the Endless Blue. Even a flight over the Thistle Meadow would do well for them, he thought. From his nip the warrior then pulled away from the maiden, trotting with his knees coming high up around his chin, the splashes getting all the larger around him, around both femmes that had stolen his heart forevermore. Cirrus gave an excitedly shrill whinny, bounding towards her father, her wings spread as her slight frame leapt, spraying the water far around them all.

Deep, resonating laughter rumbled from the stallion as he allowed himself to be knocked down by the flicka, water washing over his enormous wings, crown, flanks, shoulders; everything. Cirrus, apparently surprised that she had managed to get her father, the mighty warrior in her eyes, down to the depths of the water, trotted briskly to her mother’s side, almost worried that she might have hurt him. Azzuen rose easily, rocking to his knees, and then jutting his forelegs out to complete the standing motion. With wet wings and a broad, mischievous grin, he gave some large flaps, drying the water-proofed feathers off and cooling the company down at the same time.

The young belle bounded forth at her mother’s touch, spindly limbs jutting out in an array of awkward poses, bottle-brush tail bouncing upon her rotund little haunches as she sang a sweet tune for her father. The flicka enjoyed the cooling shower that was triggered by the motions of her father’s generous wingspan, and stood before him with her head tilted back and her wings stretched out so that it might cool her down more efficiently. Rumbling chuckles continued to echo from the steed’s maw, he watched as the filly was bombarded with another fanning shower from her mother’s almost-as-large wings. The flicka shook her head then, back and forth, rustling the short, spiky mane atop her neck, staining her usually sky-blue pelt a deeper indigo where the drips of water ventured.

Azzuen drew the filly close then, whispering something in her ear. Whatever it was he said, the belle nodded excitedly, and took off from where she was standing, bolting out and away from her parents, her path etching tracks along the edges of the lake. “I asked her to bring me a palm tree leaf.” The steed said by way of explanation to his mate. The broad, pointed leaves only fell from a few rare trees within the Throat, one of which a little ways away, further into the lush oasis. The stallion was able to keep an eye on their daughter, especially if he enhanced his sights, and she was barely a few wingbeats away anyway, should they need to intervene any dangerous activities.

Brawny bulk crept closer to the roan femme fatale now, muzzle tracing the contours of her fine, strong bodice, nostrils breathing in her scent, cherishing it. “Do you miss your famiy, Cass?” He didn’t mean the family they had created, he would do everything in his power to ensure that she never felt like she was without him, and he was sure that the loyalty to one’s blood that ran through his veins ran thick in Cirrus’ also, and so the filly would also be a constant presence. Nudging her gently, he tilted a curved lobe in her direction as he stood close enough to her to be intimate, but not so close as to trap body heat between them and melt even more under this unbearable sun. His breaths were steady, and there was water dripping from him, likely falling upon her silken hide, and cascading down the voluptuous contours of her body that the brute had been admiring before.

Lovingly his sculptured ears listened to her words, standing like toy soldiers to attention, pleased that their bond allowed unquestionable trust to permit such secrets of one’s past be uncovered. He was forever learning new angles about her mysterious character, he wanted to know her entirety, but he figured that would take a lifetime to learn (which he was more than happy to spend), and would settle for whatever she deigned to reveal about herself. He had spoken of his own beloved, upbeat family to her previously, and he was delighted to hear that a similar relationship existed in her past, the strong, unique tie of siblinghood. He didn’t mind that she had not mentioned her sister before, and he offered his plush, soft muzzle against her hide in attempts to wipe away any guilt she might have felt. Azzuen thought of his family often, and though he knew they all walked the afterlife now, beforehand, he hadn’t known whether his brother was dead or alive. To find him alive, and then to have him die – it was torturous, and if he could have, he would reverse the clock and spend more time with him – but at least now he knew his brother’s soul was able to rest in peace. He had to focus on the living now, in order to keep on living himself.

“Life has a way of throwing distractions in our path, causing one to think of things they might have never considered before.” He smiled warmly, lipping gently at the wet strands of silken mane that hung limply from her nape. “Though many years and even more miles separated me and my brother, and now death… our bond will never die.” He spoke slowly, words deliberate and careful as he brought up his brother’s passing. It took a lot of focus for him to not allow the misery to drag him down again. Was he wasting energy in loving his dead sibling? He still cherished the memories he held of his parents, and he knew that when he walked in the afterlife with them, he would still love them. There was no way for the honest steed to demonstrate control over who his welcoming heart loved, breathing or no, but he could attempt to control his ever-changing happiness. Shutting his charred eyelids, he frowned, wrinkles coursing over his brow, for a handful of seconds, realigning his thoughts to more brighter happenings.

His attempts seemed to work, for soon enough the planes of his façade returned to their smooth, sculptured magnificence, his handsome smile not marred by warring emotions any longer. He was getting better, it simply took practise, and diligence, both things which were inherent features of this charismatic individual. “What is her name?” He asked after the identity of her sister. He knew Cass’ scent well enough, and he was confident that he would have been able to identify a sibling of hers based upon that, particularly if he employed the magic that was instinctual for him, to enhance his sense of smell. “Tell me about her, about your family –if you would be so kind.” Nudging her, he invited her speech to continue, longing to hear what her curvaceously carved lips would reveal of the maiden he had grown to love and cherish more than his own life. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Pegasus filly they had created darting in and out of the trees, looking for a suitable leaf to try and dislodge. The young belle would be kept preoccupied a little while longer before she figured out how to dislodge a leaf from the tall, swaying palm trees.

Hesitance, she almost faltered as her words attempted to start; Azzuen thought a moment that he had overstepped his bounds, that she was not ready to unveil the past tracks she had walked, events that had brought her to stand here, beside him, within his embrace. All for his own stupid, selfish gains; he yearned for the comfort of her voice, for more knowledge of her mysterious being, he wanted to know more about her, so that he might know her even better. But then she did speak, and he relaxed, not realising he had suddenly grown tense in waiting for her musical tones to grace his ears again. He had been so worried, so afraid that he had done something to wrong her, something to cause her trust in him to waver –but it was not he at all, rather, it was her own self, battling with past events as they bubbled to the surface of her membrane, and spilled forth in a delicate harmony of narrative.

He feared that darkness, or shame existed in her past, and he was sorry should that be the case, to have asked her to relive it, to have brought the memories to the forefront of her mind once more just for his own selfish wants of her comforting harmonic voice – he felt horrible. But she continued to speak, and he gladly listened, absorbing each word carefully, clinging to the names and identities of those important places and beings who crafted this beautimous maiden into the divine creature she was. He nodded when she asked him of snippets he had already been told, and otherwise provided his velveteen maw against her silken skin in silent encouragement for her continuation of speech.

Her eyes fell away from his then, to her reflection, then to the horizon, the never-ending line that defined their existence, the line that was always there; a comfort to a winged being was that horizon, for it symbolised both a border and a lack of borders simultaneously. There was many a moment in the time of Azzuen’s life that he too had sought comfort in staring off to the horizon, especially on his travels, when one knew not what that line might be bringing, or what you were running away from. Their stories were not all that dissimilar, and it was almost pacifying for the steed to recognise that they truly were meant for each other; even in knowing so little about the other’s past, they had been drawn together, and they would now live their lives along very similar paths; that of family, love and devotion.

Without disturbing her posture, he gently cupped her nape beneath his own crown and serpentine, offering a soothing embrace, a silent thank you for entrusting him with her tale. “Voltaic was angry at me, just as I was angry at myself, all those years.” He spoke quietly, finding it easier now; like Cass had given him the cure to his grief, he was now able to reflect on it with little side effects of depression and overwhelming darkness and sadness. “Though we fled for different reasons, our actions did bring us together, and in turn, brought Cirrus to us as well.” He had regretted running for so long, until now; now, he realised, he lived without regrets, and he hoped Cass would feel the same, soon.

“You never know what the future may bring,” though perhaps I will suggest to Kri to appoint you her Oracle, so that you might indeed know what lies around the corner, “if you like, I am happy to travel with you once Cirrus is older, to find your sister. Maybe she was bitten by the travelling bug too.” Though there was always the possibility that the life of her sister had already expired, he hoped with all his heart that that was not the case, and he refused to even dwell upon that. “Fear not what they feel for you, Cass, for I am certain that they act only in sadness for losing their beloved daughter, and sister.” Certainly Azzuen would be a bumbling mess should she ever leave him, her or Cirrus, who knew what he would have been capable of when blinded by rage, a rage induced by loneliness of a lover lost – he hoped to never find out.

That his words were able to bring forth happiness from the maiden in turn brought unimpeded happiness to Azzuen’s brow, the knots of frowns finally smoothed over and instead created wrinkles of warmth and smiles, his eyes whirling their deep indigo-blue, a hue seen more commonly in the depths of the ocean, than in the iris of one’s affectionate gaze. He enjoyed their silent affections, his thoughts daring to wander to things far more deep and affectionate that simply gazing lovingly at each other. The creation of Cirrus still pulled on his loins, his attraction to the belle hadn’t faded in the least, rather the opposite – he longed for more, whether their efforts where in the name of creating a family or not. But he was ever a gentleman, and though his heated gaze probably spoke of his manly wants, he would only ever dance that particular dance when he had a more than willing partner – and of course, only if that partner was Cass.

The mention of their daughter, brought the images and feelings of that night crashing down around him; reality fell into place once more and he immediately tore his gaze from his beloved and looked to the last place he saw Cirrus. Heightening his hearing, fluted ears pressed forward, eager to catch telltale signs of their daughter. He thought he might hear something, and then a loud crashing seemed to resonate through the trees. Even without his magic, he suspected Cass would have heard the curious sounds of a tree losing a limb. Feeling a bit sheepish, for it was by his instructions that the filly was causing such destruction, the stallion said to his mate.
“She’s about, causing about as much as damage as she can, by the sounds of it.” Inclining his crown towards the sounds of leaves being stripped and branches folding, he wandered with Cass towards the small patch of destruction wrought by their sky-hued cherub.

What he came across was nothing sort of amusing; the blue belle was clutching in her mouth the long leaf of a palm tree, but scattered around her were other leaves, and a nearby tree was swaying curiously, its canopy interrupted by a patch of sky which was originally covered by the leaf Cirrus held so innocently in her mouth.
“I did it!” The flicka’s enthusiastic voice shouted around the spiky branch, which she proffered to her father, her mission accomplished. He took the leaf from her, if only to give her the sense of completion that she deserved. He then offered the leaf to Cass, dropping it with a grin and turning back to ruffle the little filly’s short mane. Cirrus promptly bounded to the comforting shade of her mother’s barrel, nuzzling the sensitive area that held the sweet liquid that had been mostly what was sustaining the filly in her short life so far.

“I fear we’ve created a monster, Cass.” He chuckled, affectionately looking at mother and daughter bonding in their moment of intimacy. Milky lips grinned out from beneath the roan barrel of Cass, and the filly exclaimed happily;
“Wanna see how I did it?!” Before Azzuen was able to convey that such a thing wouldn’t be necessary, the filly began pumping her wings, bounding towards another tree and leaping, her wings still pumping. They weren’t large enough to allow proper flight, but provided just enough lift to enable her to grasp the tips of another spiky leaf. But the filly was not about to pull another leaf from the tree’s grasp and cause another wave of destruction to fall around them. Instead she let go of the leaf, causing the tree to sway once more, and landed with some effort in the midst of her parents, beaming up at them, almost bursting with pride and happiness.

Azzuen could only chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.