If it's not with you, herd meeting

If it's not with you, herd meeting

Boltar Posts: N/A

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#11

01-11-2013, 03:34 AM

Boltar answered the call, as he had always done.

The warrior moved slowly, his marbled black legs moving across the land like liquid lava—slow as time itself, but just as smooth and creeping and undeniably progressing each and every moment, destruction and devastation in its wake. In fact, Boltar rather wished he were a great pile of steaming lava. Anyone could outrun the slow decay and hardening of molten basalt.

But no one could out run lighting.

He was ill at ease among the gathered group and chose (as usual) to linger on the outskirts of the herd, close enough that the fall and exchange of words would not be lost to the foothill winds. He spotted Nadira first. She was pale as freshly fallen snow—no, she made snow seem yellowed and foul. She was a star, bright and burning and untouchable. He felt unusually self-conscious as he uncharacteristically waded through the group to approach her, more aware of the tangled dreads and braids and tendrils of his wild black hair threaded with fine strands of gleaming silver than ever. And since when had he ever felt so, well, old? She was the very epitome of youth and beauty and all things pure. Where she was flawless and radiant as the cold dawn, he was grizzled assortment of livid scars and wounds and walked with a vague shadow of a limp. No matter, he felt glad to see her, and moved as close to her side as he dared. It would be a shame to blast such a pretty thing into oblivion.

"Nadira," he said quietly, inclining his head slightly. "It is good to see you well."

There was no discrimination in his gaze next turned to observe this young buck, usurper of the StormChaser, thief of the throne of the Foothills. From a warrior's perspective, Boltar admired his easy courage and steel determination. From an older horse's perspective, the grizzled warrior sighed gently. Change. It was inevitable, just as the spring and wild green grounds and hot summer wind fades to listless grays and decaying cold, change would come and go as it pleased. But that didn't mean Boltar had to like it. But for the most part, Boltar accepted the young thief king's words, for he was a friend and supporter of any who cherished the Foothills as he did. He did not know Svetlana well, and so he was rather indifferent to her absence. Archibald, however, was a different matter. Boltar was unpleasantly surprised to hear the great warlord was gone.

No explanation. No good-bye. No nothing.

It was so difficult to put trust in anyone or anything these days. But Evers remained, Paladin had returned, and Boltar was glad. The stallions were as steadfast as the rocks rooted into the foothills, steadfast as the foothills themselves. It Boltar were to place his complete faith in anyone, it would be Evers the Able and Paladin the Valiant.

- B O L T A R -