He’s not entirely sure if he’s here to stay or not. He was almost old enough that his mother stopped hanging over him, trying to get him to stop running off. He waited till she fell asleep though and just snuck out at night. But now, he’s nearly two, and he can’t live in the Amazons unless he wants to be someone’s bitch for the rest of his life. And he really doesn’t want to do that.
He knows his father lived in the Valley, and is pretty sure they guy ruled here a few times. Though that would have been so long ago it was entirely irrelevant now. Actually, it was entirely irrelevant in general, because Rhonan didn’t care. The only thing he cares about is seeing the place his dad has called home. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to Covet. Rhonan doesn’t mourn not having a father. It doesn’t upset him, doesn’t make him feel unloved (his mother watches the boys close enough that he knows he’s a least some prizes possession, and maybe even loved at that). But still, he would like to know what bits he can. Would like to know if he was born to follow in his father’s footsteps.
If he hates it here, he’ll wander to the field and see what vultures come hunting for him. Maybe someone entertaining will pick him up.
But for now, he stops on the border of the Valley. He’s vaguely tempted to just walk in, because it sounds like something is going on. But then again, he doesn’t feel like walking into the middle of some kingdom meeting or some shit and having the other horses actually think he wants anything to do with that yet. He still hasn’t decided. He actually just wants someone to find him, and see if they seem worth his time. So he waits at the border, settling in to nibble at the pathetic grass beneath his feet. He figures he could be here for a while.
rhonan.