01-24-2016, 11:33 PM
If immortality had not long ago frozen him into ageless eternity, he might have once been in Corruption’s very place. They are of a similar mind, the white stallion and the black, and both once caught in a story as old as time. But Corruption, at least, has a chance for a happy ending. Hurricane will live on in interminable agelessness, his heart as frozen as the Tundra so that it could not remember the warmth that had once bloomed there. A mare with sunlight in her veins had thawed that ice once, but it had returned all too quickly when she had left, taking the warmth with her.
Perhaps, if things had been different, he might have been what the darker stallion is.
But they are not, and he is here, welcoming him into his frigid realm. A realm that had long ago claimed all that is left of his heart. A hard place so befitting of a hard man. The Tundra has become such a part of him that it has become much easier now for him to recognize the call of the kingdom in others. Perhaps Corruption is not meant for this world much longer, but he feels comfortable in the knowledge that the man would likely give the last of his days to this place.
He is distracted for a moment in his inspection of the Tundra, ensuring that everything is as he had left it. For a moment, just the briefest second in time, he is caught up in the beauty too. In the raw and rugged allure that is his home. But the other man’s question brings him back, drawing his steely gaze to Corruption in an assessing glance.
The other man doesn’t realize it, but what he asks is a rather loaded question. One Hurricane cannot answer with any certainty. But then, life is always full of uncertainty. Hurricane had long since learned one must take each day as it comes, even if (or perhaps especially if) one is ageless.
”None, at the moment. We have yet to make any alliances.”
He considers the other man for a long moment. His question, when he asks it, is one he suspects he already knows the answer to. Still, he hates to assume. Even at his age, he is still capable of being surprised.
”And how about you? Would you wish to go to war?”
Perhaps, if things had been different, he might have been what the darker stallion is.
But they are not, and he is here, welcoming him into his frigid realm. A realm that had long ago claimed all that is left of his heart. A hard place so befitting of a hard man. The Tundra has become such a part of him that it has become much easier now for him to recognize the call of the kingdom in others. Perhaps Corruption is not meant for this world much longer, but he feels comfortable in the knowledge that the man would likely give the last of his days to this place.
He is distracted for a moment in his inspection of the Tundra, ensuring that everything is as he had left it. For a moment, just the briefest second in time, he is caught up in the beauty too. In the raw and rugged allure that is his home. But the other man’s question brings him back, drawing his steely gaze to Corruption in an assessing glance.
The other man doesn’t realize it, but what he asks is a rather loaded question. One Hurricane cannot answer with any certainty. But then, life is always full of uncertainty. Hurricane had long since learned one must take each day as it comes, even if (or perhaps especially if) one is ageless.
”None, at the moment. We have yet to make any alliances.”
He considers the other man for a long moment. His question, when he asks it, is one he suspects he already knows the answer to. Still, he hates to assume. Even at his age, he is still capable of being surprised.
”And how about you? Would you wish to go to war?”
There is never a day that goes by
that is a good day to die.
Hurricane
