let my shadows prove the sunshine
Pteron is sure not to be distracted by anything, truly looking out for any signs of danger like he had told Svedka previously. Svedka enjoys being a distraction (a habit of his that he simply cannot help himself from doing), but finds it admirable that despite his attempts, Pteron still remembers that danger can lurk around every corner or show up at a moment’s notice. Svedka muses silently, wondering if it is because of the lion lurking inside him that he finds himself not wary in the midst of darkness, shrugging off the natural instinct that equines have to be on edge.
There is a hint of solemnity in his new friend’s eyes and if Svedka could read minds, he would have reassured Pteron that being a wanderer is something that he’s always been, never truly belonging, never settling down. This long venture away from Beqanna had not been his first one and at least this time, he had been with his sister and her wife. All he offers the winged-stallion is a gentle smile, bobbing his chin absentmindedly.
He speaks of the west and a knowing smile finds the pink of Svedka’s lips. West, of course. He wonders if he had his mother’s precognition, if he would have seen this coming. It was symbolic in the very least, that speaking of permanent residences and homes that a warm place in the west comes to Pteron’s mind. Tephra had been Svedka’s birthplace; the sweltering heat, leaves dripping with the humidity, the smell of smoke and ash on the warm wind and the salt of the sea all flood his senses in memory. Solace and Kagerus are probably already there now or only just arriving in Tephra. Perhaps this was a sign that it was time for him to return to the very first home he had ever known.
There is a gentle rumble of a chuckle within his chest, his eyes closing momentarily to toss his head. When the thick of his forelock cascades across his bald face, his bright eyes open and focus again on Pteron. “I have,” he begins, “Tephra was where I was born.” Svedka pauses, pressing his lips together thoughtfully. “I’ve been meaning to return there actually, just lacking the gall to actually do it.” The stallion laughs, his smile crinkling into a full grin.
With a soft nod, Svedka agrees to a moonlit walk through the familiar forest. He falls into step beside the blue and cream stallion, comfortable as they begin to stroll in whatever direction Pteron guides him. He is nowhere near tired and would like to put off returning home as much as possible - not that Tephra was a bad place, only that it would mean that there would be an anchor again, and the thought of that unsettles him. A populated place filled with those he loved while a beast ravages his insides - what could go wrong?
“If you and your companion decide to journey west to Tephra, you will most likely find a familiar face.” Svedka smiles charmingly, the soft skin of his nose wrinkling with the gesture. He then shrugs, thinking about bumping his shoulder against Pteron’s, but decides against it. Instead he turns his eyes forward, inhaling the damp, cold air of the forest and exhaling with a soft snort. “Your companion,” he begins casually, “what’s he like?” An assumption on gender, sure, but Svedka had a way of reading others and could sense a likeness between himself and Pteron. His gaze remains on the forest, but the soft curling of his lips reveal a reassuring smile if the winged stallion looked at his face.
svedka
@[Pteron]