great clouds rolling over the hills
and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel
He would understand the drive that sends the stranger to seek the brothers in their icy homeland. It is one of the few forces, after all, that binds the once-General to his Tundra. Long loyalty and a deep need for companionship draw him again and again from the isolation that he finds deep in the depths of the Tundra. No matter how long he has been absent from daily life, his brothers have always found him active again in time of need.
Now is an active time for him – he had been raising children again in the recent past, twins this time, and their presence had made it impossible for Brennen to zone out. Now, the unease of war on the horizon and not knowing if his Tundra will be involved keeps him edgy, uneasy; they may be a band of warriors, but their numbers are few (as ever), and it wouldn’t help for them to be taken by surprise if the war does find them.
So he is very much aware when a stranger crosses their borders, even before the call echoes off of the mountains. It would be hard to take them by surprise, after all; the ice wall is too tall to jump, so anyone land-bound is forced to come through the single opening left to them (which is just wide enough for two or three horses to walk abreast), or come from the sea. Brennen comes from above, landing softly a distance away so as not to startle the stranger or have his arrival perceived as an attack.
He walks the rest of the way, flicking a curious gaze over the other stallion. Brennen has never been large, standing under 16 hands and slender, but he has rarely felt as thoroughly dwarfed as standing before this man. He blinks, tilting his head, and offers a half-smile as he folds his wings, tucking them neatly around his body. They always adapt to the coldness of the Tundra, but he has found many ways to help his desert-bred body out; the insulated warmth from his wings is an excellent way.
“Hullo,” he offers, a slight drawl coloring the words, spoken slowly. Nothing he does seems hurried right now – he is fierce in battle, fierce when his loved ones are threatened, when his Kingdom is threatened, but the rest of the time he tends towards the mellow. “I’m Brennen. Welcome to the Tundra.” The sentence rests, but there is no disguising the questioning tone the end takes – who are you? Have you come intending us harm?