06-21-2019, 10:00 PM
Even though Lethia's return a few suns ago, with her presence serving to quell the fire in his angered heart, Aten could not deny the dash of rage that flooded his veins when the heard Wolfbane's call. The golden one had been grazing peacefully near the edge of Taiga's trees, close to the kingdom's border with the ocean, preferring the peace and tranquility such an environment offered for one who was feeling as he was.
But then that stallion had to go and ruin it, a peaceful day, one that Aten was trying to use to keep calm until he felt ready to face the two of those horses without spitting on their hooves. His hopes were dashed, and for the briefest of moments, he almost considered not going. The golden one felt as if he were walking on thin ice right now, even if Wolfbane and Lepis had promised him a deal in exchange for stepping down from his throne.
He couldn't afford to fall through now; the icy waters of the conflict would swallow him up like the fire did to Taiga's forest so many moons ago. Aten had a promise to keep - a promise to himself, his loved ones, his friends - and he would not go back on it whatsoever.
Even if it meant throwing out the rest of his pride.
A chill in the autumn wind carried the stallion's scent toward the trees as he turned and began to head inland, content to keep his pace at a languid walk. He was in no hurry; let those two wait, and rot for all he cared. Aten carefully picked his way up the craggy rocks that separated Taiga's redwoods from the sandy beach that lay just above the kingdom border for Hyaline, his sturdy hooves and legs carrying him over each cropping with precise practice and certainty.
Once his hooves felt the tranquil grass beneath them, the stallion picked up his pace to a trot, for he did enjoy moving at a faster gait through the trees. Something about them, the way they stretched up to the sky, moved above him as if the gale winds at the coast were actually thinking they'd be enough to tip them over. They were as old as the forest itself, flora filled with a sturdiness and wisdom that even the wisest of horses would be jealous of.
That assessment would almost sound silly to one not native to Taiga's forests, but not the golden one. He'd learned to listen to the trees, to the sounds of the forests. And not just because he could now communicate with a falcon. He'd been doing it long before the Reckoning and Taiga's previous destruction. He was in his element here, his home...
A series of chatters above his head slowed Aten back down to a walk, tilting his own up to see up into the thickly woven tree branches. Visible as ever with his bright white black-speckled feathers, Turul flapped his wings in greeting.
Aten rolled his eyes as he kept walking, "I can hear you just fine if you talk to me. You don't need to make those calls."
Not seeing Turul roll his eyes in return, the stallion and falcon pair made their way to Taiga's meeting ground with minimal conversation passing between them in their limited tongues. Most of it came from Turul, who's crass mouth and vocabulary had a few not-so-nice things to say about Wolfbane and Lepis. Aten tried to push that out of his mind, knowing he might end up inadverdently repeating it later if the two named horses pushed his buttons once he arrived.
The autumn sunlight gave the Taigan meadow an etheral glow, Aten briefly noticed, as he reached the edge of the tree line to where Wolfbane called out. He couldn't quite yet see the one weaving through the trees, a filly, but Turul's keen eyesight informed him of it since she wasn't far enough to not be seen by the bird of prey. Aten thanked his friend for the heads up, not quite in the mood to deal with a filly he knew had links to Wolfbane.
Whether it was a child, one he'd taken in, or just some fanatic who followed, the fact that she was here when Wolfbane took Aten's throne was not a coincidence.
The golden one slowed his walk pace even further the close he got to the small stone slab that Wolfbane and Lepis had decided to perch themselves on. Aten rolled his eyes, knowing they wouldn't be able to tell. They really had the audacity to show such a display? Turul said something about a soapbox plus another crass word, but Aten wasn't really listening at this point.
When he was within a few yards of the stone slab where Wolfbane and Lepis were, he stopped, standing tall and proud as he'd done the day he met them. The autumn winds brushed the stallion's mane against the left side of his neck and underneath it, his forelock being pushed up against his right ear. He could see the treetops swaying in the distance, giving his head a brief shake in the hopes that somehow that would quell the weather so it would stop blowing his mane every which way.
His golden coat reflected it's own brilliant shine in the sunlight, almost as if a test against the shimmer of Wolfbane and Lepis' coats. His eyes were slightly dark while he was still a good distance from the two of them, anger and rage creeping to the front of his heart.
Turul flew down from the trees unexpectedly, surprising the golden one when the falcon landed on his withers. Aten briefly glanced back, questioning his friend. Turul gave the excuse that he was simply here to keep the stallion calm until Lethia arrived. Aten's face dropped to a deadpan as he questioned the falcon how exactly his language would be helpful in keeping the already angered stallion calm.
Quipping that was a good point, and innocently turning away to preen his feathers for a moment, Aten turned away from his friend and watched Wolfbane and Lepis to see what they had to say regarding their call, Turul doing the same, his white black-speckled feathers ruffled by the wind but looking no less majestic than when he was in flight.
@[Izora Lethia] tagged since she's a resident here
But then that stallion had to go and ruin it, a peaceful day, one that Aten was trying to use to keep calm until he felt ready to face the two of those horses without spitting on their hooves. His hopes were dashed, and for the briefest of moments, he almost considered not going. The golden one felt as if he were walking on thin ice right now, even if Wolfbane and Lepis had promised him a deal in exchange for stepping down from his throne.
He couldn't afford to fall through now; the icy waters of the conflict would swallow him up like the fire did to Taiga's forest so many moons ago. Aten had a promise to keep - a promise to himself, his loved ones, his friends - and he would not go back on it whatsoever.
Even if it meant throwing out the rest of his pride.
A chill in the autumn wind carried the stallion's scent toward the trees as he turned and began to head inland, content to keep his pace at a languid walk. He was in no hurry; let those two wait, and rot for all he cared. Aten carefully picked his way up the craggy rocks that separated Taiga's redwoods from the sandy beach that lay just above the kingdom border for Hyaline, his sturdy hooves and legs carrying him over each cropping with precise practice and certainty.
Once his hooves felt the tranquil grass beneath them, the stallion picked up his pace to a trot, for he did enjoy moving at a faster gait through the trees. Something about them, the way they stretched up to the sky, moved above him as if the gale winds at the coast were actually thinking they'd be enough to tip them over. They were as old as the forest itself, flora filled with a sturdiness and wisdom that even the wisest of horses would be jealous of.
That assessment would almost sound silly to one not native to Taiga's forests, but not the golden one. He'd learned to listen to the trees, to the sounds of the forests. And not just because he could now communicate with a falcon. He'd been doing it long before the Reckoning and Taiga's previous destruction. He was in his element here, his home...
A series of chatters above his head slowed Aten back down to a walk, tilting his own up to see up into the thickly woven tree branches. Visible as ever with his bright white black-speckled feathers, Turul flapped his wings in greeting.
Aten rolled his eyes as he kept walking, "I can hear you just fine if you talk to me. You don't need to make those calls."
Not seeing Turul roll his eyes in return, the stallion and falcon pair made their way to Taiga's meeting ground with minimal conversation passing between them in their limited tongues. Most of it came from Turul, who's crass mouth and vocabulary had a few not-so-nice things to say about Wolfbane and Lepis. Aten tried to push that out of his mind, knowing he might end up inadverdently repeating it later if the two named horses pushed his buttons once he arrived.
The autumn sunlight gave the Taigan meadow an etheral glow, Aten briefly noticed, as he reached the edge of the tree line to where Wolfbane called out. He couldn't quite yet see the one weaving through the trees, a filly, but Turul's keen eyesight informed him of it since she wasn't far enough to not be seen by the bird of prey. Aten thanked his friend for the heads up, not quite in the mood to deal with a filly he knew had links to Wolfbane.
Whether it was a child, one he'd taken in, or just some fanatic who followed, the fact that she was here when Wolfbane took Aten's throne was not a coincidence.
The golden one slowed his walk pace even further the close he got to the small stone slab that Wolfbane and Lepis had decided to perch themselves on. Aten rolled his eyes, knowing they wouldn't be able to tell. They really had the audacity to show such a display? Turul said something about a soapbox plus another crass word, but Aten wasn't really listening at this point.
When he was within a few yards of the stone slab where Wolfbane and Lepis were, he stopped, standing tall and proud as he'd done the day he met them. The autumn winds brushed the stallion's mane against the left side of his neck and underneath it, his forelock being pushed up against his right ear. He could see the treetops swaying in the distance, giving his head a brief shake in the hopes that somehow that would quell the weather so it would stop blowing his mane every which way.
His golden coat reflected it's own brilliant shine in the sunlight, almost as if a test against the shimmer of Wolfbane and Lepis' coats. His eyes were slightly dark while he was still a good distance from the two of them, anger and rage creeping to the front of his heart.
Turul flew down from the trees unexpectedly, surprising the golden one when the falcon landed on his withers. Aten briefly glanced back, questioning his friend. Turul gave the excuse that he was simply here to keep the stallion calm until Lethia arrived. Aten's face dropped to a deadpan as he questioned the falcon how exactly his language would be helpful in keeping the already angered stallion calm.
Quipping that was a good point, and innocently turning away to preen his feathers for a moment, Aten turned away from his friend and watched Wolfbane and Lepis to see what they had to say regarding their call, Turul doing the same, his white black-speckled feathers ruffled by the wind but looking no less majestic than when he was in flight.
@[Izora Lethia] tagged since she's a resident here