11-04-2018, 11:29 PM
It is an easy thing for them, to love and to care: to see the world in a spectrum of color that some have so long ago forgotten; but they are infinite in their patience and so it is not at all a concern for them to inform Anani when the chaos begins that he can and should come with them.
Tithe, of course, is more eager to drag the other stallion in the most maternal of ways- preening and quick to bring him close as they recall the directions given to them by the much larger mare. Tindalos is not lacking, he simply has a different perspective on the matter- a duty that presses him forward and causes him to observe and note every sound and potential danger.
There is fear, however, a burning question in their mind as fever plagues them and blood begins to drip from Tithe’s nose: part of them desperately torn as they hope Anani will be safe- that he will free from this contagion… even in their presence.
With him they travel, and when they get to the Cove- Tindalos turns and looks around. “Mordgeld will be here somewhere,” states plainly to Tithe. “And she will probably be giving birth soon. The child will be safe, and Anani-” he begins to say, to continue.
“Anani will be safe as well.” Tithe cuts him off. Focusing on their black and white companion and his childlike nature, Tithe takes a breath- rubbing away the blood on his own leg and sighing before watching as their newfound ward goes to the water.
They are not taken back by the request, not startled or shocked, and rather Tithe is quick to walk over with his own leg stepping cautiously into the frigid water. It’s like pins and needles on his skin, like a fresh cut: and he shivers at the chill of it. “Of course- come, come. Traveling around can be messy business, especially when there was all that mud around.” had he been a bird his chest might’ve puffed up with some kind of bizarre pride; but instead he simply postures.
Tindalos is less quick to move, more curious about the gathering of horses in the distance: his gaze not really diverting as he listens and watches- waits and considers the fact that they may be like the others: a kingdom moving for safety. In time he does walk to the others, pressing his nose on Anani’s forehead and gently brushing the forelock away.
“Alright, let’s make sure we’re all presentable in case of visitors.” calm, serene, and without issue he- like Tithe, tries to help Anani into the water- more accustomed to the cold and to the sudden bite of it.
Tithe, of course, is more eager to drag the other stallion in the most maternal of ways- preening and quick to bring him close as they recall the directions given to them by the much larger mare. Tindalos is not lacking, he simply has a different perspective on the matter- a duty that presses him forward and causes him to observe and note every sound and potential danger.
There is fear, however, a burning question in their mind as fever plagues them and blood begins to drip from Tithe’s nose: part of them desperately torn as they hope Anani will be safe- that he will free from this contagion… even in their presence.
With him they travel, and when they get to the Cove- Tindalos turns and looks around. “Mordgeld will be here somewhere,” states plainly to Tithe. “And she will probably be giving birth soon. The child will be safe, and Anani-” he begins to say, to continue.
“Anani will be safe as well.” Tithe cuts him off. Focusing on their black and white companion and his childlike nature, Tithe takes a breath- rubbing away the blood on his own leg and sighing before watching as their newfound ward goes to the water.
They are not taken back by the request, not startled or shocked, and rather Tithe is quick to walk over with his own leg stepping cautiously into the frigid water. It’s like pins and needles on his skin, like a fresh cut: and he shivers at the chill of it. “Of course- come, come. Traveling around can be messy business, especially when there was all that mud around.” had he been a bird his chest might’ve puffed up with some kind of bizarre pride; but instead he simply postures.
Tindalos is less quick to move, more curious about the gathering of horses in the distance: his gaze not really diverting as he listens and watches- waits and considers the fact that they may be like the others: a kingdom moving for safety. In time he does walk to the others, pressing his nose on Anani’s forehead and gently brushing the forelock away.
“Alright, let’s make sure we’re all presentable in case of visitors.” calm, serene, and without issue he- like Tithe, tries to help Anani into the water- more accustomed to the cold and to the sudden bite of it.