Both ears were forward as Nephilim listened to Al-Sarim speak of far off lands, his tone peppered by his accent, which was just as foreign to the native-born colt. His dam and his aunts had come from a faraway land as well, but Nephilim only knew this because his Aunt Dickere had told him once when he was but a babe. This was before both she and Aunt Hickere had passed, back when Nephilim actually had someone standing up to his dam on his behalf. Their home, their faraway land, did not encompass magic. In fact, they’d said it was almost identical to life in the islands, only there was no sea to swim.
“Why’d you come here then?” Nephilim asked, frowning, speaking out loud before he realized he was doing so. He couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving a place of great lore and wonder, different from what these islands were, and settling in a place like this. But Nephilim was young and did not yet understand that sometimes, surroundings were just that, and everyone had their reason for leaving or staying.
The girl, Firethorn, he thought, the one who seemed to have fire in her veins, was the one that spoke up and said what he’d been waiting to hear. Nephilim’s golden gaze snapped to the girls like a rubber band, looking first at Firethorn as she stated it were the Prairie they called home, and then Foxglove. His gaze lingered just momentarily on Foxglove, just a second too long (long enough that it made him feel as though he wanted to smile), and he swallowed before looking back to Al-Sarim. “I live here.” He said, his tone suddenly blunt, words dropping as though he were tossing heavy stones. I don’t think I have a home, he wanted to say, but that sounded pathetic and he didn’t fancy sounding pathetic in front of a crowd of newly met acquaintances. Nephilim thought of slyly mentioning he’d been born on Luthien, just to see if it would pique the interest of the girls… perhaps open a conversation where he could idly mention a cream colored mare… see if they’d caught sight of her, see if they knew why she was there and not here…
He nearly pinned his ears at the train of thought he had (which would have looked odd) and managed to catch himself before he showed he was having thoughts that displeased him. If they were watching him they may wonder what had bothered him and he decided right then and there he wasn’t going to say it. Thankfully, yet again, a new piece of conversation was thrown out between the four that distracted his thoughts enough to make him blink and say, “Meat??” As his golden eyes went to the girls and then out to the area around them. Dogs? Nephilim knew there was predators on the islands surrounding Crossing, but he did not know if there were any on Crossing. He supposed they could swim over, if they wanted to…
Our dad. Nephilim’s gold eyes went back quietly to them. He’d never been allowed to call Lyden his dad, his father, or anything of the sort. His dam had always nipped or kicked at him if he tried; hissed at him to never call Lyden such a thing, as though somehow it would dirty Lyden to hear Nephilim call him father… or maybe she’d never liked Lyden? Nephilim did not know. The other foals in the Forest had been allowed to, so Nephilim had never understood what made him so horrendously different. Of course, that was over a year ago, so he’d probably do best to just… forget about it.
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