.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
01-07-2017, 11:01 PM
Gawen
You wake up every morning to face the same demons that left you so tired the night before. And that, my dear, is bravery.
In the wake of his mother's challenge, there is a new itching desire beneath his flesh that is only soothed by adventure into the wild unknown. The reality is too much for his mind to take, and the comforting familiarity of the World's Edge is quickly, unapologetically warped into a shadowed facade of its former beauty. Every kind face has become a monster in disguise, and so the hawk flees its nest for warmer climates and steadier horizons.
He finds them, in time. It is a long journey, and Gawen cannot help the self-conscious thought that whispers in the back of his mind, wondering if his mother notices his absence this time. If she cares that he has fled the herd land with no escort or protection. Even with his eyes opened to the monsters in the dark, Gawen cannot fear the wilds the same way he fears his herdmates. The earth was predictable, stable. The cycle of life did not scare him in the same way that the machinations and greed of man did. Gawen would rather face a hurricane than an acquaintance attempting to throw him from a cliff, as Toulouse had done to his mother.
When the hawk happens upon them, it's entirely by accident. Their voices - at least one - carry easily across the open rock to attract his dark ears. He wanders closer, curiosity gnawing at his young mind, trying to keep his hooves from clacking too loudly. He is aware that spying and listening in is impolite, but as the words clear from their muddled state as he ventures nearer, Gawen cannot help but soak up each word.
The colt is sure that he is in love with this mare, he thinks dumbly. She says things so clearly and concisely, it reminds him of Alysanne's herb lessons. Things Gawen had only dreamed of asking and having answered lay between the folds of her tongue, and he can't help how his voice lifts in question even as he draws himself forward into the fold of their attention. Revealing himself as having been spying. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter what they think of him, because he needs to know. And the skull-marked mare had the answers he so desperately needed.
"Then why worship only one God?" he spits nervously, primaries curling desperately at his flanks as his blues focus upon Isopia's face. "None of them seem more powerful or important..." Gawen mumbles, the pressure of attention and outing himself like a numbing agent straight to the tongue. "Aren't they separate for balance? So one can't have more than the other. It's fair. But why do others choose only one god to follow? What does loyalty to one piece of a whole give in return, when we should care for the balance instead?" The words don't come easily to him as they do to Isopia - he simply doesn't have the vocabulary necessary to express himself, and the frustration is evident in his scrunched face. Gawen feels horribly inadequate trying to phrase questions that plague his mind endlessly. Should he follow the Goddess, because he lives in her lands? But the Earth is the giver of his plants and remedies, the stability of seasons and the circle of life that Gawen is so fascinated with. Already he is torn two ways, and he hasn't even heard about the other two adequately enough for it to weigh in on his decision.
"S-Sorry," he squeaks immediately as the realization of his interruption comes to mind, ducking his head and staring pointedly at his hooves. "I just...nobody ever has answers." His bright blue eyes glance over at Zubari, a somewhat familiar face from the Edge, wondering if he ever felt the same way.
Gawen didn't want stories and tales of fantastical feats and benevolent gods with magic and gifts. He wanted answers. He wanted the truth.
@Zubari @Isopia a little late because the tag didn't work when you first posted, hope it's okay he still pops in!
