From the daily press, the deepest nest, the keeper's keep.
Ganymead, having exchanged pleasantries with them, perhaps having grown sleepy or having caught whiff of something in their exchange of comfortable glances, said his goodbyes and transitioned into the night. Another acquaintance cut loose to the wilds, another familiar face.
He could never be anything but himself — observant and curious; earthy and levelheaded — he doesn't have the motivation in him, he has never had to try. Not thus far. Not here, certainly. If he knew she felt so compelled to disguise herself in her daily life, he might reach out and reassure her of her wonder. Even the small bit he's exposed in their yet brief meeting. Would she need it? In his experience (limited though it may be) others are often stronger in themselves than they think — so long as they know themselves. So long as their content is true.
She is true. She is probably strong, too.
He catches the tail of a moving star, running across the dark umbrella of night sky. It blazes a thin trail, like spider's web. And then it burns out. Gone. He snorts, looking back at her through the fog of mixed breath. “I'm glad,” he says smoothly, softly without noticing — maybe a impulse of his, to leave everything in peace under the cover of dark. “I was watching the stars you see..” he lets out a singular chuckle, it belies a boyish doubt. Does she really want to hear all this? “Well. And then I saw you. And you seemed peaceful, but then, so was I and.. well, we could be in peace with each other.” His grin is cocked, easy having finally expressed himself to her.
He shakes his mane out, stretching some blood flow through his chilled body, “Anyway, I'm not so sure I'm from anywhere, you know.” Surely everyone is from somewhere? There is no nowhere. Everywhere is somewhere. But everything free of borders and hierarchy is muddled, freely bleeding together. Nowhere, perhaps, is just the best name they have for it. “The wilderness? Maybe not so terribly far from the Gates, but I guess I never really asked.” It never seemed important, though he always fought with the impulse to check out his mother's old home.
The muscles of his shoulder shudders against the cold, seizing up and shaking. His body trying for heat within its own cellular makeup. “And you? Are you from somewhere?”
I ended up getting a bit antsy and contacted NoMercy to make sure she remembered us haha she said to go on without Ganymead. I didn't want to just pretend he was never here, since it was kind of somewhat important to your last post that BOTH of them had approached her so. Yeah. That was best I could come up with. <3
It is steep, it is stone. Such Recovery.
From the daily press, the deepest nest,
the keeper's keep.