the world of moladion was much changed since he and his brothers had been born to the soil of the old world. seamus to this day held on like a vice to the stories and lore of the bygone ages, clinging desperately to what the past had taught the world and what he could remember of their youth before the whites on their muzzles became even more apparent… though truth be told, it had yet to appear clear to those they newly met. they were hardly old yet, at least not old enough not to survive outside the defined packs created in this ‘new’ moladion.
he wanders now because of one of those stories seamus had collected, wandering the place that had once been the home of japeras lake, a place they had romped in as young men. a place where now there was a lake a fraction of it’s size still lingering. he can feel it, a master of direction and location, the familiarity in foreign surroundings. he can sense that feeling that he had been here before, and he lingers for such a long time on his side that he was surprised no bison trampled him in their travels from asteraia.
he is a gold patch amongst green (though the grass is much taller than his yellow figure) as vibrant as his brother ifrit’s eyes and the colors grow only moreso as the sun rises from it’s slumber during the night - a night he had slept naught a wink in. it is only then that he can hear the shuffle of pebbles and sand at the lake edge and then through the grasses that surrounded him like a nest till the moving creature flops quite near to him and suddenly becomes still. his brows raise and he rolls to his belly, both curious and concerned, and he heaves his bulk to sit, craning his neck over to where there is a neighboring dent in the tall grass hiding a smiling young woman.
he raises his eyes, finding her smile infectious in its sincerity, and chuckles softly. “i wondered if anyone knew how to smile like that anymore, miss. it is a good thing to find that kind of joy is not yet dead in this place.” his voice is frank, a clear tenor that is crisp and well enunciated with a hint that said it could be made to boom and carry across kingdoms and battlefields if he should have a mind to do it. “please do not let me disrupt you, it is rude to intrude on the delight of others but i find that i am rather sore for company in spite of leaving my brothers for solitude...”
he face is sheepish, a sight rarer than that of a white deer in the forest, as he looks down almost as if in pain of admitting that little weakness to a stranger. “i am neirin, would you mind it if i kept you company?”
NEIRIN
the shining prince ; of trenus
male | 17 years | 40 inches | 185 pounds
alpha of the fantastic four | fond of no one
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