The world is restless. Time is the change that drives the shifting of the seasons, and with it, a shifting in herd dynamics. Kestral can feel the tension resonate. The war has not come to their doorstep until now, but the effects of it have been felt for many moons. The stallion is plagued by visions, most of them full of struggling and grieving faces. Flashes of rolling eyes and yellowed teeth startled him awake even on the quietest of nights.

It's been a long time since Kestral has actively sought the comfort of Keen. The knowledge that she'll always be somewhere not far away is usually enough, but even Kestral is not safe from the feelings of unease creeping up the mountainsides. He finds himself looking to the skies, searing for her shadow with expectant eyes. At night, she roosts, and he looks skyward to find nothing a smattering of stars across a cloudless, black sky.

Kestral likes to keep to himself. He is a captive of the peak after all, not truly one of them. He speaks when spoken to, and accepts company where it is offered, but doesn't meddle in the affairs of those who outrank him. This night is different. With the smells of strange stallions clouding his nostrils, and a persistent feeling of unrest, he doesn't want to be alone. The pale stallion takes his leave from his place, sheltered along a rocky slope. He steps out, his hooves tapping out a near-silent rhythm on the soft earth.

Spring is coming. Remnants of winter blanket the mountainsides in wet patches, melting into mud. Kestral wears the earth painted on his skin like henna. Artful splatters of muck decorate his legs and underbelly, drawn by the snap of his own heels. His back remains clean white, reflecting soft starlight like the moon itself. The length of his winter coat wavers in a passing breeze, blurring the edges of his form. Is he real or is he a ghost?

Kestral picks a winding path further up the mountain, following well-worn trails where the footing is surest. His eyes search the darkness for the shadow of Rhadra or anyone else who might keep him company on a night like this.