Kreios
wildcat of the falls
The quiet of this little green kingdom has a way of seeping into the bones of the residents – even an afternoon beside the waterfall leaves one with an oddly unshakeable serenity. It’s the magic, I’ve surmised, when there is no physical ailment to mend, the water finds a way to comfort the mind. It was the right place for me to come when I was in need of healing, and it has been the right place for me to remain.
The border of the kingdom has become more defined, beaten by a patrol that no longer consist of me alone. I still walk it every now and again, finding comfort in the familiarity. When I find a mare standing at the border, I’m not as surprised as I might have been a year ago; more and more horses have been finding their way to our kingdom of their own accord.
I stop before the dun mare, instinctively reaching to rake the soil with my feline claws, only to remember that they’ve gone away. Replaced by the immortality of a king, I had first assumed when I found myself unable to shift. But Ygritte has struggled to blossom her greenery in my presence, and Djinni had been unable to sprout herself wings to soar away. Something more than immortality has been gifted to me by the spirit of the kingdom, but I’ve not yet been able to put the perfect name to it.
There is nothing that seems too magical about the small red mare, and while I am always friendly, there is perhaps a bit more pleasure at knowing that I’m unlikely to be ruining her sense of self. “Hello there,” I say, nodding my head and speaking in my gentle tenor voice, “Welcome to the Falls. What brings you to our borders?”
i’m screaming the name of a foreigner’s god