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»› C A S S I U S ‹«
Considering the frigid weather, the sun against their hides provides the stallion with muted encouragement. He has not experienced these sorts of temperatures before. Admits to himself he had no idea what he was getting himself into, making his way farther north than anticipated.
He finds himself at the back of their group that day, trailing behind Frost’s footfalls. It’s too quiet for the stallion; the wind and the brief interludes of wildlife singing do not fill the air well enough. And before long his airy voice hums a tune against the quiet. Something old, something he recalls from his childhood – but is too precious to flesh out in lyrics. Fearing the memories that shadow their verses, or the faces he yearns for – lost, perhaps encased in the ice that surrounds them.
So he picks different words to follow their light tune. Somewhere along the road, he mumbles them – plays with them, before they rear up and dance beside the swaying winds.
“Ah- de- lad, oh how this winter stings,
For he that sings – He sings for the sun to shine
Oh – ohh on me…”
He grins, more so to himself and chuckles into the air more freely than he intended.
“Behind her steps, he shall see –
Oh, kind is the lady fair that sails these seas,
Ahh de-lad… ,”
He pauses; wondering if she’ll throw a more pointed gaze towards him. Now that he has included her into his song. But he shies and tries to avoid any glances by keeping his gaze to the side, and interrupting his humming with a few choice coughs.
“So the Hidden Falls.”
He breaks his antics for the sake of pushing away the opportunity for scrutiny. “What do you know of it? I did not come across anyone from the Falls upon my entry into the Threshold. I… I do not even know who rules the falls, let alone… what I might expect from our arrival.” A quick pause.
“And there have been mentions of this Kisamoa? And of… Gods?”
His gentle, honeyed eyes furrow in contemplation. Hoping that either of his questions might permit an answer, a place from which they could both stand on equal grounds for the sake of extracting information they could gain. It simply wouldn’t do if Cassius went about asking the obvious. It would save them time, it would make them an efficient team.
Which reminds him.
“Oh, I forgot to ask. Who is this creature that has accompanied us? I have come to the conclusion that there are several of them that follow beside… a chosen equine.” He has since increased his pace so that he travels beside them, the cerndyr between them. Cassius casts the quiet, recluse creature a curious glance from where he followed.
But since then the landscape began to change. And the trees and foliage became bare, ensnared by the winter as the raging waters of the falls inhabited the air. From afar he could see its rising mists, steady eyes hungry for who or what lived beyond the borders approaching.
But her voice calls out with a command, and by instinct he finds it revolting. By habit however, he follows succinctly, nearly in step with her feet as they halt. He hides his distaste for the simple word, but he cannot separate his past experiences from her subtle wishes. It reminds him of those who had complete power over him, and he’s taken aback by its reminder. He sends a wary glance at her as he nods, eyes haunted by the words of the masters and their hordes of slaves put to work. With a calming breath he fixes his eyes upon the Falls. Soothing his soul with brief recollections of his journey to Helovia, the people he’d met, the absence of masters and slaves. As far as Cassius could tell – he was merely an underling. A disciple, an asset, not a tool.
With a few more steadying breathes, he glanced back upon the mare.
“Shall I call upon them?”
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