The stallion stopped, his weary head lowering to take a deep draught from the little stream he had found running over the frozen ground. Dust coated the male's normally beautiful rust colored coat, each layer telling of the months he had spent traveling. He was travel worn and his mane and tail were a tangled mess, yet even in this disheveled state one could not deny he beauty or strength. There had been one point in time, before he had pulled himself back from the brink, where he was merely a walking shell, his body had begun to deteriorate as the grief within his heart consumed him. Now his body was once again strong his muscles filly carved like that of a bronze statue, only the dirt and grime detracted from his youthful strength. He had cared little about grooming himself throughout his traveling, he had no home to return to no one to care for him and thus be did not care to keep himself looking good. he had yet to fully overcome the pain in his heart, but with each passing day he found the strength to move on. One day he would have the need to bathe, when he was needed by another again. For now he would continue traveling and rebuilding his broken heart. In stark contrast to his body the Pegasus's wings were kept well groomed, unlike his pelt which served as a meager form of protection his wings were greatly needed and required a higher maintenance and TLC then any other part of his body.

Looking at his reflection in the shallow stream Apache grimaced in disgust, perhaps he should clean himself sooner then later. He could hardly recognize himself, he had effectively gone from being a rust brown to a light brown stallion, even his dappling had been hidden. His flaxen main was stained and tangled, dried mud, grass, and other debris made it resemble a haphazard bird nest then an actual mane. The sight of his pathetic appearance made the stallion laugh, the deep rumbling should causing his chest and belly to vibrate. Well wasn't he a sorry sight! Yes, he would clean himself as soon as he found a large enough boy of water to do so. He could had thought of rolling in the snow to try and rid himself of the dirt, but within the forest it was not yet deep enough to provide any sort of aid to his plight. With something to do the stallion felt slightly better, his new mission helped to distract him from bleaker thoughts. With a new found purpose Apache continued walking, and although he was tired he held his head high. Again he was amused how quickly his moods could change, he was such a fickle creature far to easily amused by the simplest of things.

Light and shadow danced upon his dirty pelt, dappling it with their own pattern as he walked through the forest He welcome the protection the trees provided from the biting wind and the soft calls of winter birds. His hooves made soft crunching sounds as he walked on, his breath crystallizing in the cold air. Although he enjoyed the shelter of the trees and the sparse sound of birds, what pleased him more was the frequent scent trails that often crossed his path. He was not the only equine in these parts. Keeping alert for not only danger as he usually did Apache also cast his sense round about in search of another horse. Although one could consider them a threat as well it had been far to long since he had seen another of his kind, he would welcome any to appear right then and there even if they were trying to attack him just so he could see one.

Apollo knew not what drew him to the confines of the Threshold on that particular winter morning. It was common place, now; the overo stallion would wake, make his unecessary patrols around the Foothills borders, then venture south to strut through the familiar forests that marked the entrance to Helovia. Sometimes he would find individuals, lost and wandering as though they were searching for a home, and sometimes he wouldn't. Either way, simply getting out to stretch his legs and spend some time away from this family in the Grey was a reprieve. Oh, don't get him wrong; Apollo loved his home and wouldn't trade it for the world. For the first time in his life, he had finally found a place where he belonged, and that was in the comforting and protective arms fo the Grey. He would serve them until the day he died, the Medic knew... It was pure luck that he had been found by Phaedra in these very woods, a year ago last Frostfall. Apollo scoffed. "Has it truly been a year already? Goodness... How time flies." Indeed, how time did fly. It was remarkable, for not only had a whole year gone by since his initial arrival into this land, but he had changed beyond belief. While still somewhat awkward around others that he didn't know, especially mares, Apollo had finally discovered a gentlemanly niche in himself that he often fell back on in unsure situations. Unless, of course, he was around Midas; the General of the Dragon's Throat was a brother to the paint, after all. He was like a soothing balm to a burn, a steadfast pillar to go to whenever Apollo was feeling rather... Downtrodden. Still, back to the task at hand. Ebonite hooves drew the Earth Medic through the forest, the beads in his mane creating a familiar staccato of clack, clack, clack as they bounced and rubbed against one another. It was a soothing sound to Apollo's ears, and the simplicity of it all formed a smile on his lips. Still... As he moved, hooves striking the earth at a leisurely trot, the overo's honey-brown eyes caught sight of another about the same time that his ears picked up on the sound of crunching snow.. Pausing from where he was, Apollo squinited, trying to make out the newcomer... It was moments later that he spotted a Pegasus, rather wearily making it's way through the barren forest. "Are you well, brother?" Came the question of greeting, his voice soothing and unthreatening, and Apollo dared to venture closer to the Pegasus. The Medic's eyes roamed over the other male's frame, taking in his chocolate coat matted with dust and grime, and the tangles in the Pegasus' flaxen mane and tail. He looked rather pathetic, in a world-weary kind of way, and Apollo felt his heart go out to the stranger. He was obviously new to the lands, for he didn't smell of any of the herdlands... "Are you lost? Perhaps I could be of assistance...?"

Credits

It was chilly to say the least, frigid weather had been growing like a sleepless beast in the North. When it grew large enough, the beast traveled from its sacred high place so that it could give a frosty kiss to lower lying valleys below. I slipped from the comfortable warmth of home during colder months, mostly because it was likely one would find a wounded or exhausted traveler in need of assistance, and slightly because home could and did become insufferable at times. Strangers came from outlying territories, and even other herds. Castouts, the rejects, the unwanted, the lost. Some nearly frozen, they walked like living dead. Others collapsed with their face in the dirt, drowning in their own spit; to prideful to die. I remembered keenly a time when my efforts had been coupled with the King of winter to save one of these poor winter children—even then our talents were used vainly. We hadn’t been able to save that mare from the icy fingers of death. Her lips had turned a shade of blue, then black; helpless rage forever frozen on her face was an image that would stay with me for the rest of my life. Those lifeless eyes, shiny and without a soul—staring up as snow fell all around us. With any luck this morning wouldn’t be one of death-- or so I hoped. My steps aren’t quiet…but in their defense, whose hoofprints could be in this weather? A rather impressive layer of frost covers the ground, each tap of my shoes create a pleasant and not so stealthy ‘crunch, crunch’ sound. Ivory feathers are plastered against my barrel tightly to retain heat as close to my body as they might. While weaving through the trees I catch wind of a visitor; my snout follows the direction of his faint scent and trails it to just past a brook. Beyond that are two figures, one I recognize instantly as a well-loved battle brother, and friend. The other is unfamiliar, a rusty colored stallion; his body painted by desert tones that had been dulled through a harsh existence. "Are you lost? Perhaps I could be of assistance...?" The smile that comes forward is natural. Our sun breaks through a patchwork of bare finger like limbs and scatters its warming rays across my back making my steel collar beam. Pushing on I enter their talking space and offer my soul brother a warm grin with proffered muzzle, “Hail to you both, and may the sun be ever warm on your back during these cold times,” it was an old saying that my Sire used to utter on occasion. Turning now to the trail worn stranger, I am unaware of how much my gaze softens when taking in this proud creature. Physically my pitless pools note weariness but also strength in bones not yet broken by life.

The stallion tilted his head toward the sound of another horse's voice. He gave a small appreciative smile toward the other stallion. Ceasing his walk Apache shuffled his wings, bringing them closer to his body to protect his body from the chill. Oddly enough the mud and dirt that had dried upon his pelt added an extra layer of protection against the cold. "Yes I am fine my friend." he answered, "Just a bit travel weary." Giving his forelock a shake to clear it from his eye he let out a snort, once again finding his sorry state rather amusing. "I could use a bit of assistance, could you tell me where I am?" His deep brown eyes roved the winter forest falling upon another stallion as he approached offering a tide of greeting. "And to you my friend." he answered dipping his head. Shifting so he could take in each horse with little effort Apache smiled. "I am in fact lost, but I do not mind, those who are lost tend to find the greatest of adventures. " His tail swished back and forth, disturbing the still fridge air. He was grateful to see others of his own kind, the two stallions seemed to be nice enough although one could never be certain. With little chance of fending off against two enemies he decided to remain optimistic. There was no sense in riling yourself up over nothing, no he'd remain friendly but alert as he was certain they would as well.

He had no idea where he was but it seemed that the place was nice enough compared to other areas he had traveled through. He had been moving around far too much lately, perhaps it was time to settle down once more and find some peace. Giving his shoulders a role the mud cracking from the motion, Apache eased some of the tension in his muscles from his long travel. This place was really quite beautiful, the snow glittered upon the ground as frost kissed the trees turning them to crystal as they sparkled in the sunlight.


-Sorry for the short reply, anyone else who'd still like to join are welcome to hop in-

Apollo smiled brilliantly at the fellow male's words. Indeed, one would be exhausted when first arriving into Helovia, for travel could grate on both the body and the mind if not rested well enough... The Earth Medic chuckled and shifted his stance, rear right hoof cocking slightly in a sign that he was at most ease. "Of course," Apollo answered in response to his question, his smile softening and a kind sheen overtaking his gentle amber eyes, "You're standing in the Threshold of Helovia. Many enter this land just as you have... Are you, by chance, searching for a place to call home?" As soon as the inquiry had left his lips, however, they were joined by another male, one that Apollo immediately recognized. Those golden adorned wings, the familiar ebony and ivory painted hide, and those gentle, yet always aware golden depths. "Midas!" Apollo exclaimed, his ears snapped forward at attention. "Oh, my friend, it's so good to see you again!" As the Pegasus drew closer and offered his muuzzle, Apollo couldn't help but take a step or two in the General's direction, his own nose outretched. Gently, as one brother would do to the other, Apollo brushed his muzzle against Midas', allowing the General's scent to fill him. "How are things in the Dragon's Throat? Peaceful, I hope...?" Here, the Earth Medic paused and then chuckled, a sincere and happy look crossing his face. "I haven't had the chance to congratulate you yet on becoming a father. So, congratulations, brother." Even though the Grey were to swear allegiance only to themselves, Apollo knew he could never go to war against Midas' home should the situation ever arise. Just as the Grey had become his family, so had Midas. Yet, hopefully with the relationship between Ktulu and Midas, such a drastic thing would never happen. An almost sheepish expression crossed the overos' face and he glanced back to the newcomver, an apologetic grin marring his features. "You are right, I suppose... If not for being lost, then I myself wouldn't be here. And what an adventure it has been since then!" Apollo chuckled and traded a knowing glance with Midas before focusing on Apache once more. "Forgive my rudeness; I am Apollo, Earth Medic of the Grey. If you are searching for a place of respite, I can offer you my home... Or, if Midas here is feeling particularly generous, perhaps he could offer you his?" There was nothing but teasing adoration in Apollo's tone, for he knew Midas quite well. Not once had he seen his friend in a non-generous mood.

Credits

Friendship was a most cherished gift. “Midas!” I smiled at my dear brother, touching him as one would blood kin. Our noses met, his exhaled mist mingled with my own and I also breathed in deeply that familiar essence which brought this heart to rise further than even my wings could go. “Oh, my friend, it’s so good to see you again!” I couldn’t think of what wondrous deed I had fulfilled to be blessed with such a brother. Witnessed hardened pools softened even further, smoothly I replied with deep affection, “Aye Apollo, it soars my spirit to know you are well.” The silver lad spoke next, “And to you my friend.” It wasn’t often that strangers would greet another with anything more than a scowl, (and some gave less than that). But this one seemed to be of a cleaner cut then others, greeting me in polite turn to which I regarded him with approval and curiosity. “How are things in the Dragon’s Throat? Peaceful, I hope….?” Patiently I turned back to my painted friend to answer his question; there was time for getting to know our silver company shortly. Apollo’s gentle and compassionate nature was a pleasant thing to partake, it would be shameful to not fully bask in it while I could, “Yes our sands remain quiet thus far…I pray the Lord of Earth is smiling upon the Foothillls as well?” Even as I said the words, it was impossible for Ktulu to not come to mind—as did our little daughter. Bitter sweet, which was the taste which lingered upon my tongue when I got to thinking of them. Bitter because I couldn’t, and wouldn’t live in their herd—nor would I follow their morals. Sweet, because of my unrelenting love for her and our child. Apollo must have realized this because he added with hints that could have been apologetic, "I haven't had the chance to congratulate you yet on becoming a father. So, congratulations, brother." Grinning all the wider, my eyes shone with proud delight and tone signified gratitude in a man’s gruff sort of way, “Thank you—have you gotten to meet her yet?” Our daughter was truly something to behold. All of these little snippets happened in a matter of moments; soon enough our attention was directed to the silver stranger whom I had yet to learn his name. He openly stated distress and singled himself out as a newcomer, “I am in fact lost, but I do not mind, those who are lost tend to find the greatest of adventures.” Standing by, I resolved to say nothing at first and instead held the silence to see how my brother would respond. (He had after all, met this lad before me.) “You are right, I suppose…If not for being lost, then I myself wouldn’t be here. And what an adventure it has been since then!” I thought back to the meadow, it had only been a season ago when myself and the Earth mender had saved the life of a jackelope—in some other world. Still, on quiet nights, I dreamed of that ‘other’ place. I dreamed of its silver glowing orb trees and mythical beasts that took life from tales I was told as a child. “Forgive my rudeness; I am Apollo, Earth Medic of the Grey. If you are searching for a place of respite, I can offer you my home… Or, if Midas here is feeling particularly generous, perhaps he could off you his?” His joking isn’t missed, I turn to look at the patched one once and then regard our company with a humorous but polite grin, “As he says I am Midas, and you are standing upon Threshold soil. A gateway of sorts,” my smile remains but tone drops into a lapse of practiced seriousness that is as gentle as a moth, yet firm in its provision, “From here you will find entrance into either of the four herds that rule lands beyond the unforgiving wild. Dragon’s Throat is the land from whist I hail, it lies Southwest of this forest. World’s edge is Northwest and the Foothills lies Northeast….” Quietly my voice slips off before rising again to add in a slightly quieter tone, “Should you have reason to visit them I’ve been told the Aurora Basin is far North; though I would offer caution, they do not take kindly to strangers…” Truthfully I knew little of the herd; and thankfully had only been blessed with visiting their soils once. (Something I prayed would never happen again) So not to end on a bad note I added swiftly and with light tone, “Your presence would most certainly be welcomed in the Throat should you ever have the need for it.”

He remained silent as the two stallions exchanged warm greetings, a small smile touching his lips at the open show of affection between the two despite of the difference in herds. It was a nice way to enter the land, to see such a bond that transcended borders and bloodlines. Dragon's Throat, Foothills, these names were foreign to Apache, but by the way they were used it was not hard to figure out that they were territories one of them called home. His ears perked forward at this new line of information that was now being fed to him through their civil conversation. He did not feel at all put out by the sudden lack of interest in him and merely waited for them to realize he was there again before speaking. Rather he took the time to examine the two gentlemen, committing both of their faces and scents to memory. Then the conversation took a rather unexpected turn as the horse he had learned was named Apollo congratulated Midas on being a father. Instantly he drew away from the conversation, the simple words of a happy friend to another causing his heart to ache with the pain of what he could have had, of what he had lost. The pain was so sudden it caused him to flinch. Over the passing months he had learned to handle the heart ache, but every now and against the pain would hit him all anew. The simplest of things could remind him of his mate, the rising sun, the way the grass was blanketed in light layer of moss, or even simply drinking. Odd things that one would have never realized they associated with their loved one until they were no longer there.

Although the pain was unexpected Apache quickly regained his composed appearing as if nothing had happened. He was unsure if either of the stallions had noticed, he sincerely hoped that they hadn't. He didn't want to seem rude by reacting in such a way when they were discussing such a wonderful subject. Their attention was soon upon him and he could not help but smile at Apollo's words, his heart still throbbed but he had become used to ignoring the pain. He felt nothing wrong by answering the earlier question truthfully, even if it had announced that he was indeed new to these lands. He was not entirely in distress, he wasn't bothered by the fact that he was lost, he could very easily get by on his own without knowing where he was. However unlike the previous lands he had traveled in this place held herds, although this information could be valuable he would have found out about them soon enough. No one could hide the scent of a herd, but now that he had these two here he could learn more then just where they lived but their values and beliefs.

He gave a small dip of his head. "There is no need to apologize." He said, "I am Apache Renoen, it is a pleasure to meet you Apollo. To answer your question I haven't thought about joining a herd. I have been traveling for so long it would be nice to finally seek a peaceful life among others I can call my friends." He fell silent as Midas spoke explaining the various herd lands. His ears perked at the mention of a desert, although he was a horse who admired the beauty of winter, but he wished to dwell within the warmth. The lands he had been in previously had been warm and although he was of a breed that was hardy against cold, his pelt hadn't had time to grow to the proper length needed to provide adequate protection. If it weren't for the mud providing a natural barrier against the chill Apache would have begun to feel the effects of the freezing whether long ago. "You both are very generous." he said, "It is not often one is extended the promise of shelter. I am deeply honored." Again he gave a dip of his head. It would be nice to have company again and the protection of a herd, the only dilemma he had was which kind soul to go with. Unable to chose based on the two ambassadors before him Apache opted to collect more information. "Please, tell me of you homes."

“Please, tell me of your homes.” I smiled gently and mused for a moment of how to paint an image that this fellow might be able to envision clearly—without murk. Surely the whole of Helovia knew I wasn’t the loveliest of painters. After a pause my baritone voice rose to answer his inquiring, “The Throat is a desert my friend, with vast sandstone caves and an endless horizon that seems to have no end. Thriving within the heart is a tropical Oasis which nourishes a vast variety of life. Further South, bordering our territory is the ocean.” Feeling as though my explanation had been brief and clean cut, I added with a lopsided grin that is rarely seen in proper company, “It is something that is best seen with eyes, rather than described by a poor story teller such as myself.” Really, it wouldn’t matter which way the stranger went; so as long as he knew that our home was always welcome to his and all kin. The Foothills was a fine place to take up residence in, Ktulu lived there with our lovely daughter…she hadn’t ever favored the heat that came with living in a dry wasteland, among other things. Some just aren’t built for a sandcastle life, others thrived in it. Just as there were those that didn’t favor becoming hired hooves; sharpened only for the tinkling of payment… Still—to each their own path. I didn’t judge Apollo or her for choosing their life, nor would I ever. They are family, and sometimes family doesn’t always agree with choices—but it’s still…family.

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