He is as guilty as any of them for the way the Gates have stagnated, perhaps more so given what this kingdom had done for him. Had she not given him a new life in the face of death? Had she not nurtured him, groomed him, and shaped him into the stallion he was today? Though perhaps not the kingdom directly, but the members that this kingdom made had saved him. Without Kaelie and Finnley, its quite hard to tell where he would be now. Whiling away the hours in the Meadow, probably, a host of unknown children to his name. The realization of it all crashed into him like a wave to a shore, and he was suddenly ashamed of himself. It was his promise to himself and his kingdom, his duty to see this place thrive! And now he had a lot lost time to make up for.
The sound of hooves on ground do not pass him by. It is become almost a foreign noise as of late. He pushes his head into the wind, his nostrils quivering as he decoded the various scents that clung on the passing breeze. His queen, his princess, mother to his first child. Her sweet scent, like lilac and jasmine, was the first and foremost that caught his attention. With a childish toss of his head he swung into motion, tracking towards the center of the kingdom. Soon he arrives, but he is not the first. He slows to a jog, approaching with an easy smile on his face. But the smile quickly fades as he sees the sadness clinging to the shoulders of his queen. It is easy to see, almost palpable, and he longs to pull her into his chest and shower her in kisses. If he could he would take her sadness away, absorb it into his own flesh and make it his burden to bear. But he was no magician. And they are surrounded by their kingdom mates, so he holds himself back, his brown eyes searching hers frantically. He nods to the draft stallion beside him, knowing him by sight and name but having never spoken. He smiles at Fiasko, a recent acquaintance. But his eyes and his heart are reaching for Camelia. “Camelia…” he says, his pain for her lacing his voice. “What’s wrong?” he asks, keeping it short and simple. But he longs to say more, to tell her he loves her and that it’ll all be alright. He’s here. He loves her.
mast
be my asleep at last