Everclear
In the end he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised - this is the Meadow, after all, and horses rarely come here if they don’t want to socialize. But he hadn’t expected someone to recognize him, or at least to realize that he is as old as he is. He still appears as young as the day he’d encountered the magical fairies of Beqanna oh so long ago, so why should anyone view him any differently?But this mare, piteously scalded and bare, carries a similar posture as himself. A slight slump to her shoulders and the roughness of her voice did not speak of any newcomer, and he supposed maybe she saw the same features in him. It has been a long, long life after all. A gentle gust of the nighttime air passes between himself and Scorch as they stand together, as Arthas approaches and joins them, and Everclear takes a short breath of it. It smells of autumn, and it reminds him, oddly, of the last time he’d met his mother here, in this very Meadow. He had cried like a child upon her shoulder, unaware of the new sibling that had been growing in Alex’s stomach at the time. So many lifetimes ago, that was.
“Heartbeat,” he repeats Scorch’s word quietly and a twitch of his withers. “You could say that,” he responds. “I live today because of this land’s magic.” It is a simple admission, but not one that he gives lightly - very few others actually know of his immortality. At least, very few who are still living.
He would allow his mind to wander back through the velds of time to regale the mare with tiresome stories of his life, but there are other matters at hand. Arthas is with them now and his manners at least earn him more than enough of Everclear’s patience. In his day, the Meadow was not quite the place to come for recruiting purposes, however he is not remiss in his own conversational manners. It has been a long time since he has spoken to anyone but himself.
Introductions and pleasantries follow next, as is typical, and Everclear bears them all with the ease of a duck in water. Neither of their names are familiar to him, and somehow that is a relief; at least no ghosts have come to haunt him tonight. He hardly senses any of the hostility or strangeness between his two new companions - he has long since grown weary of discerning the differences between good-natured ribbing or competition. He simply smiles and nods again.
Loess is another new name to him and he cocks one ear toward the other stallion with some subtle interest. ‘Kingdom’ is certainly not a new word and Everclear allows himself a simple smile and a small sigh. How often the term came up, and how often he had ignored it. However, it is become quickly apparent to him that things have changed quite a lot more than he was ever used to.
He laughs very slightly when Scorch answers, though it is good-natured. “Indeed, names mean little… mine has rarely become me.” After all, his life has rarely been clear, nor have his actions or intentions. For not he is calm and quiet though, no longer the fierce creature he once was nearly one hundred years ago, nor the insane beast his granddaughter Virgo’s life had left him to be. He is himself again - Ragtime had cut his throat with his metal wing, Virgo had found him bloodied and gored here in this Meadow… and he had slipped away from the world.
“Arthas…. Loess. What is this place?” he looks back to the stallion as he addresses him, and then he looks back to Scorch. “Have you come here with the same intent? These names are all new…. I suppose I have been away a long while.” His coat twitches again as if in a physical laugh, but no sound leaves his throat. “Beqanna perseveres,” he mutters, almost to himself.
E V E R C L E A R
@[Arthas]