Albrecht

The boys story is interesting, if a little questionable with all its embellishments, but then again, the stallion asks himself, hadn't the gods created all of Helovia in one way or another? Dragons are real enough, though minuscule in comparison to the one in the story, and the gods themselves pop in from time to time to give and take and prove their strength beyond any mortal doubts.

In the small silences between each breathless segment of the colts narrative the stallion lets his own thoughts meander here and there, following a zigzaging trail from one idea to another. He wonders if the God of the Sun was jealous of the dragon for his flame, assuming the dragon was a fire breathing one, and whether the God of the Earth chose to help imprison the beast to prevent its powerful flame from incinerating his landscape or for some other unknown reason. He wonders if there's comraderie between the gods or if there's competition, each one heading their own herd and territory against the others. There's been peace across Helovia since the old stallion crossed the Threshold, but he's heard whispers of past wars, foreign gods, and otherworldly creatures and takes this current span of quietude to be a temporary respite from action. He thinks of the sea creature, Kisamoa, and wonders whether his appearance marks the beginning of a new conflict.

Abruptly the boy stops and the stallion, having grown accustomed to his weaving back and forth across his path, nearly collides with him, jamming his hooves into the ground just fractions of a second quick enough, his ratty beard swinging forward to brush across the youths rump, should he stay immobile. He stares down at the boy, watching invisible air currents sway the fluff of his mane for a moment before the uncertainty in his posture turns his gaze forward. He can see a thin rind of blue on the horizon, just peeking through the spaces between tree trunks up ahead, and the scent of salt water lends a cool, mineral taste to the air. Either through knowledge or by sheer accident the young boy has brought them to the edges of the the Throat after all - or very nearly.

"Lost your way?" He grins down at the colt, a gentle teasing in his tone that suggests he knows the answer, but won't force the boy to admit to anything that might elicit embarrassment. "Maybe if you were just a little bit taller." He suggests, sitting back on his haunches to briefly lift his forelegs from the ground, though only an inch or two, his bearded chin lifting to point out ahead of them as if searching for clues. He's seen the boy leaping and capering for no small amount of time now and imagines he could raise himself high enough to see the edge of the ocean for himself if he reared to his full height.

"Just like the dragon." He suggests more openly, a conspiratorial grin crossing his weathered features as he puffs out his chest and arches his neck like some malnourished, hobo-esque god readying for an assault.



"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
OOC // @Saoirse