I Tried...[Rhonen]

[Rhonen]

rhonen

molten eyes and a smile made for war

He doesn’t have a home, but he’s getting tired of living in the overly-busy common areas. There are just so many comings and goings, all the time; sometimes that’s great, giving him people to interact with, but the rest of the time it’s just plain annoying. But the chestnut stallion has heard rumors that the once-Kingdom of Taiga is habitable, but quiet. Habitable now, though it hadn’t been when the fae had been done tearing it to pieces. Still, he doesn’t need perfect; he just needs livable and quiet.

The trees are not as tall as he vaguely remembers they once were, nor are the pine needles underfoot as deep; but the new growth is still further along than any natural means could have produced, and the scent of the pine trees is…nice. He wanders along, trailing his nose through deep drifts of needles, snorting to dispel them in wide arcs just for the fun of it. And, true to the rumors, it’s quiet. His steps are almost the only sound, besides the natural ones of birds and small animals.

Almost. Faintly, there is the sound of hard breathing, and he is curious enough to head that direction. He wants to know who he might be sharing this space with…even if it’s mostly an empty not-Kingdom. If he doesn’t like the stranger, he can just avoid them in the future. A few more steps bring him around the trunk of one of the widest trees, and he finds a bay mare behind it, clearly pregnant and also clearly the source of the labored breathing, with tears drying on her cheeks.

He considers turning around and leaving, but instead he clears his throat and stares at the bay, strangely familiar, girl. Well now he’s been here too long, and he’s got to say something. “Uh, d’you live here?” His regular, brusque tone. A deep breath and he tries to force his voice to soften, because damn if the tears aren’t affecting him. He shifts uncomfortable and adds, “I’m Rhonen.”