He was searching for his sister. Again. It seemed his lot in life to be forever seeking out family – though in Kora’s case, he knew she didn’t always want to be found. Of course, he had looked for her anyhow. The first place he’d checked had been the cavern at the northernmost reaches of Icicle Isle, but the scent of her was faded, as though she hadn’t been there for weeks. Nor had he found her in any of the rest of her usual haunts.
It frustrated him. His niece or nephew would be months old by now. Leander had never known what it felt like to be raised amongst family, and thus he wanted desperately to be a part of the child’s life. It had only ever been him and his parents in the lands beyond Beqanna – and now that he was here he didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be involved. It seemed a second chance, of sorts. And yet Kora was nowhere to be found.
In the Pampas she had told him she was going back. Naturally, he’d assumed she’d meant back to the cold island for which she held such a strong preference, but now he wasn’t so sure. So he took wing, and, all over again, he began searching. He’d alighted in the forests of Taiga a few days ago, wandering about on foot; he wouldn’t have been able to see anything past the seamless canopy of trees from above.
It was pleasant here, he thought. Shaded from a hot summer sun, he listened to the rustle of forest life as he picked his way past verdant poplar and rugged oak and sweet-smelling spruce. Turning a corner, he came upon a winged mare, her faintly roaning bay coat illuminated in the shifting sunlight that filtered through the leaves. “Hello,” he said, his brown eyes kind as he came to a stop. Having been confined by illness to the Isle with his less-than-talkative sister for much of the past year, he found he wouldn’t mind some friendly conversation. “My name’s Leander,” he smiled in simple greeting.
