Sheets of rain fell from a coal colored afternoon sky; the heavens seemed to weep for those that sorrowed below. A golden general stood under meager protection that an overhanging offered, all the while shuddering irritably; cold had begun to creep inside the creases of bones causing pain. Frostfall was proving to be an annoyance for the inhabitants of desert life. Heavy ivory fluttered with each passing breeze, he huddled appendages against sides for increased warmth.

Midas wasn’t sure why he wanted to visit these ungodly shores. Usually, he avoided the ocean as if it bore a contagious plague. Reasoning behind this ideal was personal, but like all creatures weakness finally ate away corners of his resolve until a cave in occurred; even this man had to grief properly, and thus far Midas had denied soul such opportunities.

Head hung itself in shame, a position he wasn’t proud of; but rightly in deserving. This day was a time of grief for him, in privacy it was fully expected that a few tears be shed and softly spoken prayers be sent upward to heaven.

“I’m so sorry Norse,” he uttered at a whisper meant only for the dead’s ears. Quiet moments passed, save for the crashing thunder of waves against rock. Voices trailed to his ears, as did movement; silver ridden gaze rose up curiously and suddenly fearful that someone of note would see him in this unstable position. Cheeks still wet from weeping he rubbed skull against the underside of his ankle to dry them and then straightened with auds perking toward unintentional eavesdropping.

Tones remained friendly, but the gossip that followed caused him to forget previous sorrow and focus in on their conversation. They rested close by, around a sharp bend. Eventually the guilt of listening in grew too much for his honest soul to handle, embarrassed for not coming forward sooner he allowed a soft nicker to spring out and feet to shuffle round in greeting, “Forgive my interference,” an apology laced his tone and features, sheepishly he smiled at the gathered mares and admitted, “I was around the corner and overheard your conversation.” His mentors mate was here, respectfully the general bowed head before her and the little one she held close by. The other was an unfamiliar mistress to him, certainly not a throat member.