Falls

Spring. The frigid chill of Tinuvel melted away much, much more slowly than the turn of the season did for the rest of the other four islands. It was still crisp and fresh with piles of snow littered here and there about the tundra landscape and yet, without the icy winds ripping through the Bay and the howl of hungry wolves at night, Nephilim appreciated the new season. Even more he appreciated the calmer waves than what had afflicted the shore of Tinuvel during winter storms. It meant he could swim through saltwater once more, take to the common islands and seek company with new horses, potentially helping his already moderately sized family grow even more.

It was, however, hard to convince himself to leave the Bay, even temporarily. Nephilim, who’d lived two years without having anyone, now had more familiar faces he cared for than he’d ever thought he might. He wanted his days filled with spending time in their company, from mares to the first children he’d had survive their birth – two beautiful daughters who had their father’s heart in their metaphorical hands. They could ask anything of Nephilim and he would likely do it.

But still, that morning he knew it was Crossing which he wished to visit. If not to recruit, it would be good to listen to what word might be spoken of the other islands so he could know if they were just as quiet or if they’d grown louder in winter. Some, after all, did not suffer the winters Tinuvel did and therefore had no trouble continuing their travel during all seasons.

Nephilim ultimately found himself pressing his hooves on the shoreline of Crossing, saltwater dribbling off his gold-splattered coat. He blinked, gold eyes burning, white hair stuck to his wet skin. He moved forward rather than lingering; Nephilim had spent much of his first two years on this island and knew it much more intimately than the occasional visitor might. He knew when the grass was grazed low in more populated areas where it was that there were other clearing less frequented, tucked away and hidden from the heavily traveled paths. He knew when horses were crowded about the areas with a tide easy enough to swim in where it was the river bent in just the right way, shallowing out into a pool that could be played about in without having to push and crowd one’s way through others clamoring for the sweet, cool water.

Because he knew the land well enough, he knew where it was he wanted to visit first. The Falls. So different from Tinuvel, here on Crossing there was an abundance of vibrant greens and bright blues, clusters of flowers blooming both on the ground and in various bushes. It was beautiful here.

The beauty of the Falls was stolen from him as his golden gaze fell onto the white-faced dark mare making her way, alone, toward the Falls. Nephilim did not hesitate, whinnying a low, rumbling whinny to catch her attention and beginning to walk toward her. The seasons were changing him, making him interact with others with slightly more ease than he’d possessed in the past. Both ears were pressed forward, his gaze watchful as he observed her, looking for any sign of body language that would tell him how he should act toward her.