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The countdown was on; Each day was torn between crooning over plants in the greenhouse or preparing his homely space under the tree for that wondrous new arrival who would be due in the coming weeks. How excited Tilney was to be a father. Each night he whispered his words of thanks and praise to father earth and his brother the sun and asked them to keep their darling child safe in their world until it's care was passed onto he and Arah in this world. Not a day went by that the bronze lad did not dream of what their babe would look like, who they would most resemble and who they would become. All they were were guesses and kiss-like wishes now. For the time being the golden patriarch would just have to wait. If he found himself with nothing to do however; no work in the gardens or greenhouse and the nurses all out scavenging any herbs they'd need, left him agitated and itching for his love. Arah he would sigh, sometimes turning hi verdant gaze to the sky in the hopes of seeing Wynter. The ivory doe too had her own way of keeping herself busy and patient for their bairn. Peatree glided from his perch on a nearby sapling to find his place on one of the many tines Tilneys Antlers posessed. Hanging upside down and hugging his full belly the young bat smiled peafully, closing his gigantuan eyes. Perhaps the young marsupial thought it was home time? That they would follow the usually routine of a morning and continue through the woods to settle at Tilneys home tree for the afternoon. Of course not! Days like this when the flaxen lad had nought to do were for one thing and one thing only - recruiting. Threshold bound Tilney and an alarmed Peatree took flight. The unicorns cloven hooves clapped the ground until it hardly felt there any longer. Kissing the grass with each step, Filling his lungs with every stride. The trek across the thistle meadow took a lot less time then usual. he now had a regual, worn path he took with checkpoints and land marks to keep as his compass - with Peatree overhead for parts of the journey he has a scout for any dangers ahead also. The thread of wildfire did not detour this stag - he was a prince of the sun, an apostle for the golden father. He wouldn't fear a distant blaze. Those same cloven stoned soon reached the threshold, easily recognizing the crowding firs. One could very easily tell when they were free of the threshold or had wondered into its clutches. It was a dark landscape, it always took time for his night blind sight givers to adjust. Slipping through thick, choking foliage, Tilney found his way back to his usual path which he seemed to have lost during his partial blind stage. Not even a few hundred yards away he could detect voices and another's treading - ah, newcomers perhaps!? Peatree clung tightly to a lofty tine on his bondeds antlers with his skinny forefingers, hanging on as tilney wandered swiftly between each fir and approached the growing crowd. There was one he recognises immediately; Sikeax of the Dragons Throat. She was a sun physician who he had spent sometime with on his trip to the south. It seemed she had a foal at foot, his memory on the grey colt was vague fierce as he was. He did not recall a meeting at the throat with this youngster, but Tilney didn't have the greatest memory. Also present were who spotted individuals, one a charming lad and the other quite a striking mare. She reminded him of his close friend and apprentice Ultima - the way she held herself. He also wondered if se was full of questions like that wonderful swan was. Finally though, he had completely approached. He took his place beside the spotted mare and sent a charming smile around to each present "Salutations!" was his cheer "Sikeax! What a pleasure it is to see you again my friend, have you trekked north trying to beat the heat?" "But oh my dear Sikeax, I have the most wonderful news!" was Tilneys next explamation, moving form his spot beside the newcomer who he had not greeted yet (how quite unlike him). "My Arah is expecting! We will be boasting a bundle of joy within the fortnight!" The fortnight - that may of been an exaggeration. The bairn might not come for a month yet. But how rude. There was a weary traveller amongst them! He would assume the spotted lad was not the traveller; upon his approach Tilney had seen him introduce himself to the lone lass, so he would assume that it was she in need of rest. "oh golly, how rude of me" Tilney turned his body once again to face the painted doe, shaking his head in disgust as his behaviour "Madame you must be ever so weary! are you injured? do you need healing? I am a doctor!" he almost spoke all his questions in one breath of air, his unlit lantern crooning over the subject with curiosity. "There is room at the Edge for travellers my friend. It's quite cosy this time of year - the seaspray and our glorious forests gives us the ultimate relief from Tallsuns heat!" |
Wander or Leave
turn in to winter lights
☀︎
