02-23-2021, 03:26 PM
Hardly believing what he was hearing, unable to believe what he was seeing, Yanhua let Memorie slip off into the surrounding forest without saying a word. He could faintly hear Borderline muttering something - but the words were indecipherable to Yanhua’s ears. The blue-haired mare could’ve been speaking in a different language, for all he knew.
Yanhua was looking at his son.
Reynard seemed well. Yan’s blue eyes searched the darkness for any flaw on his colt’s skin, any rip or tear that might lend explanation as to why he’d left the playground or when, but other than the normal cuts and scrapes of a rowdy childhood there was nothing. Rey was healthy, but not exactly… the same.
His father narrowed his eyes and took a step closer, interrupted by the sudden wave of an image that surely was his daughter’s magic. Lifting his horns, the stag flicked his ears out to the dark world and smiled quietly to himself. Cheri was safe, he thought. She was home. He turned to look for confirmation in the eyes of his loved ones, and saw that even though Borderline seemed elated and willing to accept the news, Amarine was shifting uncomfortably in the blackness.
As she muttered out an excuse, Yan’s smile dropped. He knew what was coming next, braced himself for it, and then grit his teeth at the same time Reynard pushed his smaller body into the broad side of his sire’s ribs and shoulder. That was more expressive than words. The jagged shocks of anxiety, like spikes needling into his skin, washed over the bonded pair of horses remaining and yet the bearded chestnut watched Amarine go. Slowly, the needling sensation felt duller. Yanhua exhaled a long-held breath, deciding he would follow later when she’d had a chance to process the feelings, but for now the sound of Cheri and Mem returning drew his attention back.
“Reynard.” Yanhua murmured down at his eldest colt, “your mother and I have been worried sick about you and Cheri. We went to the playground…” The stallion shook his head, and the tassels of hair under his chin rustled softly. “If anything ever happened to you or your sisters, it would destroy us.”
Serious words for serious times.
There was a moment between them where Yan waited to see if Reynard would respond, and then Cheri joined their group by standing where Amarine had been moments before. She passed in front of her father, flapping her wings in hazy motions of light that seemed oddly out of place in the darkness, and flicked her tail. “Is mamma alright?” She asked her family, turning to look the other way for Memorie.
Yanhua kept silent. He looked at Borderline, wondering if she had anything to say, but just as quickly lipped Reynard’s blonde forelock and pushed off on his bent leg to get moving. They couldn’t stay here, even if he felt like collapsing. Weeks had rolled by and still the sky hadn’t changed. If this was the way things were going to be, his family - all of Beqanna, would feel the effects soon enough. As he hobbled, Yan tried not to think of the worst: that this was a phenomena like the others in their long history. Ones that altered worlds or killed thousands. He thumped along, which caught Cheri’s attention, but interrupted her before she could speak.
“I think we should stay together. Sleep near one another, in the southeast section of the forest, near the river.” He suggested strongly, making sure to be specific so Cheri and Memorie could hear him over the sound of his irregular gait. He wasn’t worried about Reynard, he was sure that his son understood the importance of what Yanhua said before his siblings returned. Just in case, he shot him a glance in the dark. “Borderline?” Yan asked, looking up. What did she think?
Yanhua was looking at his son.
Reynard seemed well. Yan’s blue eyes searched the darkness for any flaw on his colt’s skin, any rip or tear that might lend explanation as to why he’d left the playground or when, but other than the normal cuts and scrapes of a rowdy childhood there was nothing. Rey was healthy, but not exactly… the same.
His father narrowed his eyes and took a step closer, interrupted by the sudden wave of an image that surely was his daughter’s magic. Lifting his horns, the stag flicked his ears out to the dark world and smiled quietly to himself. Cheri was safe, he thought. She was home. He turned to look for confirmation in the eyes of his loved ones, and saw that even though Borderline seemed elated and willing to accept the news, Amarine was shifting uncomfortably in the blackness.
As she muttered out an excuse, Yan’s smile dropped. He knew what was coming next, braced himself for it, and then grit his teeth at the same time Reynard pushed his smaller body into the broad side of his sire’s ribs and shoulder. That was more expressive than words. The jagged shocks of anxiety, like spikes needling into his skin, washed over the bonded pair of horses remaining and yet the bearded chestnut watched Amarine go. Slowly, the needling sensation felt duller. Yanhua exhaled a long-held breath, deciding he would follow later when she’d had a chance to process the feelings, but for now the sound of Cheri and Mem returning drew his attention back.
“Reynard.” Yanhua murmured down at his eldest colt, “your mother and I have been worried sick about you and Cheri. We went to the playground…” The stallion shook his head, and the tassels of hair under his chin rustled softly. “If anything ever happened to you or your sisters, it would destroy us.”
Serious words for serious times.
There was a moment between them where Yan waited to see if Reynard would respond, and then Cheri joined their group by standing where Amarine had been moments before. She passed in front of her father, flapping her wings in hazy motions of light that seemed oddly out of place in the darkness, and flicked her tail. “Is mamma alright?” She asked her family, turning to look the other way for Memorie.
Yanhua kept silent. He looked at Borderline, wondering if she had anything to say, but just as quickly lipped Reynard’s blonde forelock and pushed off on his bent leg to get moving. They couldn’t stay here, even if he felt like collapsing. Weeks had rolled by and still the sky hadn’t changed. If this was the way things were going to be, his family - all of Beqanna, would feel the effects soon enough. As he hobbled, Yan tried not to think of the worst: that this was a phenomena like the others in their long history. Ones that altered worlds or killed thousands. He thumped along, which caught Cheri’s attention, but interrupted her before she could speak.
“I think we should stay together. Sleep near one another, in the southeast section of the forest, near the river.” He suggested strongly, making sure to be specific so Cheri and Memorie could hear him over the sound of his irregular gait. He wasn’t worried about Reynard, he was sure that his son understood the importance of what Yanhua said before his siblings returned. Just in case, he shot him a glance in the dark. “Borderline?” Yan asked, looking up. What did she think?
@[Borderline] @[Reynard]