There were so many different scents of different creatures. A couple of them even accompanied hoof prints in the earth. Others had prints tipped with claws and smelled of danger. The young man was careful about which trails he followed. Shadows of his new home loomed over him, creating an air of mystery, beauty, and danger. He had swallowed his initial fear, held his head high, and marched himself into the forests. Determination fueled his steps. Had he been beside his sister, the two of them would have dived into the foliage with little to no care of what could be lurking in the depths. Now he was alone and his initial call into the air had rang empty. A fire started in his young heart. The instincts of the stallion he would become ignited something he was not completely aware he had. There was a need to be a part of this place, to learn it and grow into it. There was also a need to stay alive in it.
The trails he followed brought him to creatures, dark as night, their eyes bright. The colt learned fast to run from these creatures and to know what they looked and smelled like. He learned to watch them, give them the time to know their movements for they would be the creatures to watch for when his home would come to grow. Others he followed that led to different kinds of shadows. It appeared as though the abandoned island was not as quiet as his echoing claim had indicated. The songs of birds had masked the whispers of ghosts that lingered in the trees. He followed the old paths, curious about these equine shadows that still lingered in this land.
He followed one along the river to the waterfall he had come to know as a place to stay. In the shadows he hesitated when at last one of the echoes showed themselves. At first the colt was surprised to see a stallion, calm and collect, looking much like he did, next to the falls. Blue eyes blinked and a soft snort issued from his velvet nose. The the gold wine boy was torn. This man could easily turn around on him and chase him from this place he so desperately wanted to call him. He could also be a priceless friend in a time of need.
Ailill tossed his still short mane from his face and stepped forward. A year of life had not yet created a body of strength. Much of him was still legs, white that reached up past his knees making the limbs look even longer. Still, he moved with a subtle pride. Arrogance was not a trait his upbringing had allowed him to adopt. “Sir…” His voice rang out over the falls, respectful to the elder and almost questioning. “You are a creature of this place.” He could tell this man had been here a while. The contentment he showed, and his body smelled of nothing but Atlantis. Ailill was hesitant and unsure. “What brings you back into the light?” Still young, younger than he should have been, he was old enough to show respect towards this stallion. He just hoped he had not come forward to try to take this home away from him.
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