Winter had come once more. Three winters now, ferrying lost souls from whatever fate the Commons had in store for them… three. Frey didn’t know what to think of it. In reality, he was just tired. That’s fine. He can be tired. The general’s son could be as tired as he wanted, so long as he didn’t let things grind to a halt around him. So long as he didn’t stop. Right. Can’t stop. Can’t rest… not yet.
The days had grown shorter, and it seems that night would sneak up on him over and over again. Frey was mostly alright with that, and yet… and yet. He’d long for the summer days once more. Frey missed them. The feel of the sun warm on his back and shoulders, turning his face to it, eyes shut. Right, things he couldn’t dwell on right now. He’d take one last sweep of the Commons before turning in for the night.
At once, Frey is glad he did. There’s something afoot. A man– no, that’s a boy. That was definitely a boy, what a laugh. Still, it looked like the son of the Lagoon would need to step in. His call at first is wordless, a rumbling deep in his chest. As he draws nearer to the boy, the dark woman, the sooty stallion draws to his full height. Regal, stately, with a fire in his gaze as it fixes on the strange man before him. “Don’t they teach like, manners or some shit, on the rest of the Islands?” Tone relaxed, but the fire in his gaze is unmistakable.
Whatever the stranger’s plan was, Frey would at least buy the girl some time to wriggle out of it. Really, the rest of the Islands looked at the Lagoon like they were monsters, looked at the bachelors like they were animals. If only they knew.
three. friesian x. sooty red roan. 17.3Hh.
Tyr x Kvothe
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