| Bergamot My silence is a roar...
The young stallion was often in the Meadow. He had no place within the Jungle, though it was still technically his home, he would never give his heart to it as his mother had. Perhaps he had a streak of pride. Given some of his relations, it wasn't impossible that the golden stallion contained a vice or two. He was no longer the innocent, carefree child that had once played with Cammie in the tall grasses but his heart was not yet hardened. Taller than his mother and somewhat more slender, he had become rather handsome.
Unaware he was being watched, his face was set in gentle contemplation of the clouds that crossed in the blue autumn skies as he mimicked them half-consciously on his topline. The lines of his face were definitely Arabianesque but the large eyes with dark lashes were his mother's though their irises were a muted hazel, not her deep brown. He had his father's long legs but a deeper chest, more along his stock heritage. The breeze set his short mane to flutter as he turned his head at the sound of a voice. There was something familiar in the velvet tones and his sharp ears flicked forward immediately.
Dark lips mute, they still opened as if he were going to give a greeting as he turned to regard the inky mare. A number of expressions flickered across his face rapidly, as did a number of illustrations on his body. They were nebulous and had no meaning, simply reflections of his surprise, pleasure, and then hurt. He knew the mare. It was Cammie, or it had been. Word of coronations spread quickly from one kingdom to another and he had heard of Camrynn, the black co-queen of the Desert. His handsome face darkened as he looked at her but after a moment he gave a nod. You never returned, he wanted to say. You lied to me, his eyes hissed at her. I was a foolish, trusting child, he chastised himself. She had been his first friend, and the first girl to pull on the strings of his young heart.
Thorny black vines snaked over his form like the coils of venomous snakes until his golden pelt was almost as dark as her own and only his bright hazel eyes burned into her. He sighed soundlessly, only a whistle of air escaping his lips as the vines faded away from him and left him gold once more. Cautiously, an image of her as a graying bay filly formed on his chest and he nudged her with his nose, a deep frown on his lips as the figure disappeared to be replaced by a fairly detailed rendering of her current form. He couldn't replicate her with the same skill she did herself, the magic made her perfect in a way even his eyes couldn't record.
Why is she here? His pelt was the Jungle now, he knew that she wouldn't be returning to it. Had she ever planned to stay or was it a game? Was he a game or a pawn for her too? Mistrust and confusion clouded his eyes and he simply waited to see what she might do next. Was she really here to just see him? Or was he just a roadbump on her way to something else?
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