"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
The wild child whirled playfully and charged in the opposite direction as both Refr and Shual (the names that the pair of foxes had introduced themselves as after Ima had granted them the ability to talk to him) half-heartedly nipped at his heels. The trio was currently engaged in a short game of tag before the midday sun became too unbearable for much action to occur.
Soon they would hole up somewhere in their favorite oasis where there was plenty of shade to curl up under and rest beneath. He was truly one with the desert after his many years exploring it (although its sands remained forever restless and endlessly blew across its many dunes). Although, he did not blend into his surroundings quite as easily as he once had after the appearance of the strange blue swirling designs upon his hindquarters. It was hard to believe he had once been so hungry and almost on the brink of death at such a young age.
But he was a survivor.
And he possessed an iron will.
To never give in to those that would break him down and spit him back out again.
But it was Ima who had truly laid the foundation for his sheer will to shape out of.
He’s never been one to truly pay attention to those who shared the sands with him, but he has noticed the faint scent on the breeze of one who has been absent for a number of years – and yet he still carries with him a strong impression. He can’t recall anything besides an intimidating presence and an upsettingly angry Ima. He had trembled before the great black beast, but he would not allow him to hurt Ima any longer.
He wondered what had lured the black beast back to the sands?
Was Ima upset once more?
The foxes called out greetings to a wonderfully familiar golden mare in the short distance and the wild child’s troubling thoughts were broken with pure excitement. How could he ever remain unhappy when Ima was around? He rushed towards her, unmindful of how thirsty and hot he had become from their silly game.
“Ima! Ima!”
For once, his face is almost boyish from the wide grin upon it. No suspicion or wariness would ever grace his mug when in the presence of her. He stops just short of touching her, always content in invading what one might call personal space. Of course, he has no notion of that sort of thing when it came to her.
Refr and Shual twirl about in-between her legs before wandering off to find some shade to take their midafternoon naps. He notices but does not outwardly acknowledge their retreat. He is simply too enthused about the idea of visiting Ima without anyone else to draw her attention away. He sways and quietly hums one of her songs under his breath as a means of expressing his delight while he waited for her to greet him.
He didn’t hope that she would.
He knew that it was a given that she would provide him with what he needed.
He waited patiently and then burst out his questions right after said greeting had occurred.
Giving the foxes a voice was easily one of the best things she’s ever done for Munroe. Ima, for all her love, does feel guilt that she can’t be there for her odd little wild child as often as she should be. Everything seemed to get away from her when Vanquish died. Her sun and stars. Yael couldn’t do anything about his tendencies to be a target for fairies and imps and whatever malicious creatures seemed to find delight in pulling B’kanna’s inhabitants off into the other world. His vulnerability is worrisome. However, as much as she wants to protect him from everything, she can’t. She’s tamed him as much as anyone could, but he’s never been like any of her other children. Which is why she gave him the foxes.
The golden mare hones in on her wild child, dashing across the desert’s dunes to find him. It still feels great to run, to exert and exhaust herself in a purely physical way. The wings disappear for a moment, only t return when she slows and hears the fennec’s yips. Xello! she greets them joyfully, turning in their direction. The happiness on Munroe’s face makes her heart sing and she rushes towards him, enveloping him in her great, fluffy wings, just like she’d done when he was a colt. That is their way, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.
“Munroe! Munroe, my dear!” Yael laughs freely and nuzzles his shoulder, pulling her wings back to her sides. “I’ve meesed you, leettle vone.” She shakes her head, sending silver tendrils of mane waving back and forth. “Yes, ees a good day. How ees yours?” Not on purpose, but simply because he isn’t on her mind, does she avoid the subject of Van. This is their time. They can talk about whatever they want, she has all the time in the world now.
It did seem that he had a penchant for having trouble follow in his wake. Although it seemed to mostly just affect him and never anybody else. He secretly thought it was unfair that everybody else seemed to have figured out the great secret of how to be left untouched by it all. Instead, he was always left to struggle uselessly against the magical and otherworldly forces.
But he could claim that he’s survived relatively unscathed through most of his experiences.
Now it was just a matter of trying to avoid any future mishaps.
Those wondrous golden wings of hers envelop him and he is overjoyed. This was where he was the most at peace in his world. It was the beginning of their relationship and remained a physical indicator of his acceptance of her into his life. Ima was the only one that he would allow such unabashed closeness to him.
She nuzzles his shoulder and pulls back from him. He felt that their hug hadn’t lasted near long enough, but he was happy just as long as he got to spend some uninterrupted time with her. “Yes. Miss you! Miss you much!” He knew that she was important to their home and always had many things to do. He wouldn’t ever voice his complaints out loud for he was well aware that Ima distracted herself from her hurt with micromanaging the running of the kingdom.
This was why he would jealously guard what little time they had together for today.
“We play. Lots fun! But it nap time for friends. What Ima do?”
He wondered if she had flown today, perhaps accompanied by the newest addition to her family. Munroe never really understood what went into keeping a kingdom self-sustaining and stable. His thoughts roamed free of any responsibility or worry; his days were filled with the open sands and the sweltering sun. The wild child didn’t separate himself from the sands, the desert was merely who he was. Why should he concern himself with the whys and hows of a kingdom when there was so much before his eyes to explore?
