The Lost Islands
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Falls

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to love is to destroy
Posted on April 14, 2015 at 03:04:39 AM by nephilim


He watched for her. He hated that he did. He hated that he lingered near the shoreline she’d left on, wondering if he might see her return. There may not be love between them but Nephilim didn’t understand that. The only consistency he had in his life was her and while he hated her, he craved her, for he was lost when he was alone. He had to take some pride in how he’d begun to branch out, little by little, but he still found himself wandering back to the beach, searching the islands in the distance.

Which had she gone to and why? He knew Luthien lay in the distance but his aunts were not there and his mother had never expressed any form of compassion for the stallion that had been there before. Lyden, his name had been. Nephilim hadn’t been allowed near the herd that often as his mother lingered on the fray as was, but he’d known their names. He’d been told once that Lyden wasn’t his father but he’d never been told who was. It had been a day where he’d called out to him as the other children did, called him Papa, and his mother had rounded on him with a nip, driving him away from Lyden and hissing that Lyden was not his father.

So… why did she leave to an island? He couldn’t understand it. Nephilim stood on the beach that day, resting, waiting, and trying to convince himself he wasn’t waiting. Three horses came from the water but none were her. He snorted softly and turned about, the mere sight of the stallion having him wary enough to turn and walk away. He’d noticed something peculiar this season when it came to stallions – most of the time they were content to ignore him and he hadn’t had much interaction with them yet, this season, they seemed to want to drive him away or square off with him the moment they saw him. Especially if a mare were around.

Lacking any sort of fighting expertise, Nephilim chose instead to avoid the situation completely, retiring off to the Falls where it seemed the least amount of drama occurred. He moved over the overgrazed grass, nibbling at bites here or there, his tail idly flicking at his haunches.

A small bit of time passed before he heard a series of noises which distracted him from his quiet, lethargic woe. There was a squeal which caused him to flick his ears and then a splash which caused him to hesitate before he took another bite of grass; then, shortly after, there were soft giggles. Nephilim lifted his head and turned his thin neck, ears twitching and eyes seeking out the two who were laughing. They weren’t that far from him and he recognized them immediately as the two young fillies he’d seen coming out of the water with the stallion.

Nephilim looked around for the spotted stallion and saw that he was nowhere to be seen. His gold eyes flicked back to them. Again came that odd sensation that pulled him toward those of the fairer sex, an inherent curiosity it seemed he couldn’t shake. Nephilim rumbled a little nicker behind closed lips before he started forward, chin dipped to chest and white tail flagged out behind him.

Instincts could only take him so far – having him strike a pose that would one day appear magnificent (once he’d filled out) but only now looked somewhat silly, caught in the awkward growth spurt that he was. Once Nephilim was stopped before the girls (having offered his muzzle for an exchange of breaths) he suddenly knew not what to say. He floundered for a moment, shifting his hooves against the ground and eyes darting between the two of them. “Um, hey.” He said, swallowing. “I’m Nephilim.”



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