[open] who caught and sang the sun in flight

[Herrin]

------H E R R I N in short:-------------------------------------------------- all good things are wild and free He’s been in this particular patch of forest for nearly a year now, having moved farther south after his elder brother left for Ischia. He wonders, sometimes, what Quell had made of the place and if he’d ever been able to find their father. But he does not wonder enough to go and find out. Instead, he’s found contentment in the trees, undisturbed and entirely at ease. Undisturbed until a stranger’s voice calls out: ‘Who’s asking?’ in a way that assures Herrin that she (because that voice is undoubtedly female, even if not one he knows) is not going to be easy to scare off. It’s one of Larrikin’s sisters, the buckskin thinks as he shoulders his way through the red sumac. There are about a dozen of them, maybe more, though he’s only met a few. Emerging with a few red leaves in his black mane, the young stallion finds someone looking nothing at all like what he had been expecting, and he draws up short. “Who’re you?!” He demands, the words falling from his mouth before he can stop them. She doesn’t look like any of Larrikin’s siblings, not with her glowing white skin or the golden lacing across her legs. There is no halo, no sign of anything draconic, and he frowns in uncertainty. “This is my creek.” He tells her, and wonders if she’ll move so he can pass by or if he’ll have to clamber down the steeper bank. Herrin swallows, and contemplates turning into a bat and searching for a less occupied stretch of water. Taking a step closer, he chooses instead to gesture to the side with his dark nose, indicating that she move over. @Lillibet