|
»› C A S S I U S ‹«
The creatures that pull away from their posts make to barely shift the stallion’s head. He has found his eyes locked on the charms, wondering how long they will flounder along the branch’s limb. Who and how many of them would know their significance – if time would decay them, just as it did the bodies that they belonged to.
Cassius’ response is slowed, and his eyes don’t quite make it to Erebos’ heavy gaze. Found out, no longer the ghost that searches these lands for things he can’t find in his soul. And inevitably they have crashed, and splintered upon interaction. Who knows the array, or patterns of space dust and cosmic air might align during this time. In any case, he can’t avoid the conscious stallion, and turns his ivory blotted face to regard the General. Nodding to, with pressed lips that thin and battle over the words that should spring forwards. “Morning.” Is his airy tune, filled by a natural ease that sounds far too foreign in this exact moment. But the words and the voice projects far beyond him, no longer waved away into oblivion.
With a few blinks, the student, the Disciple without a master sets his gaze along the scenery. How far gone had he been, before realizing where he’d arrived? Enough to loose track of the stones and concrete face of the cave entrance, no longer open – breathing, and accessible. The stallion’s gaze follows the rock’s gnarled surfaces, down, and further along the mountain walls that bask these valley sides.
When the stallion speaks again, Cassius finally prompts his focus to reel in. And where one pair of eyes settle upon him, he finds three others – gleaming in the light. “I can’t say.” The pause was brief, but it served its purpose as he debated honesty over deceit. “I didn’t know him.”
In most cases, the stallion would have rarely interacted so closely to royalty. To even find one’s self so close in proximity with those of the higher powers, inured recklessness and instilled all cautions. One wrong twitch, or harried whispered proved fatal. It was hard for Cassius to discern the circumstances, which exempt him from these precautions. “I was hoping someone could enlighten me.”
And yet he pressed inwards, softly, gently, but as bright as candle light. Holding his breath, and preparing himself for what might appear as an intrusive presence. So that he may blow the light out, before it grew too strong and too painful to look at.
“Cassius, resident Disciple.”
He had the benefit of shielding his emotions. It came with the shackles. And yet he’d made the gamble of inviting the other stallion to share, to explore such deep and wounded parts. If the herd was to become his family, however, he would have to take these risks and chances regardless. To expand his limits and tackle his weaknesses, and sacrifice something worthwhile, whole, untainted and useful for the bodies that hummed and went about their day. When it all came down to it, as their lives trickled away with each passing day, every encounter mattered. Just a little, as time inevitably slipped by. Somewhere in this web that connected the Basin people, their history followed with them – shaped them who they were.
If not by blood, then perhaps by knowledge and understanding, Cassius might begin to cherish and nurture those things left unsaid.
| |
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
