Killdare did not dream.
If he had, he did not remembered it. That may be because he had a poor imagination, if any at all. He thought it strange, how he had heard voices. Far off, somewhere. He was on the edge of consciousness, that feeling between awake and asleep. The mind free to flow between both states freely. Was that even words at all? Laughter, yes, that was laughter.
Laughter?! his mind exclaimed,as he forced his lids open. Sea green eyes, searching the night. It was still night, the darkness of the witching hour lay thick among the wood. Where were the others? Had Engel not been resting just yards from him? He had taken to sleeping in the copse with her, in case thieves in the night intended to raid. That was when they always came, during the stillness of the night. It had always been that way, his eyes searched for her. No sign of her golden pelt anywhere. His auds flickered madly atop his crown, attempting to locate the disturbance.
It was then that he spotted something. Yes, something alright. Lights, flickering through the pines. Some alight with a cold glow like a winters kiss, other burning their image into his iris. Burning. Had they been set alight with flame again? His thoughts turned to those of everything and anything that could do wrong. Focus and move! he growled at himself. Spinning out in the mulch, a spray of decaying leaves in his wake.
He was off. Barreling through the trees like a freight train. He had improved on making his way between the pine totems. Caressing his sides with their bark instead of destroying them, branch by brittle branch. Hmmph Hmmph Hmmph, his breathing became heavier as he gained momentum. Killdare was never fast though, he probably never would be. Not like those with lithe spindly forms, Arabians, Quarters. He could never outrun a horse, no, not in the sense that one might think. Zipping through the treeline, a blur of motion. He could outrun a horse, for hours. Chugging along farther, eating up the earth on and on and on. When the other had tired of their sprinting? Well, their skinny legs made the most beautiful music beneath his mass as he sent them plummeting to the ground. As he progressed, he threw away thought of fire. These lights had not spread like they should, had not come to caress his carriage with tongues of flame. This was something else.
Something else, entirely. There was Straia, he saw as he reached the clearing. The one where the charred twin of a tree sat. Nearby, a heart thudded gently, continuing to cling to a life that was beyond it. Straia though, she was absolutely jubilant. It was if he had never seen her before, not truly, not until now. Things had changed, he knew, as he approached, gut heaving. A smirk filtered through and traced its way along his maw. He waited still as stone, elemental light reflecting in his orbs.
Dutiful Soldier|Captain of the Chamber