RHAEGAR & SOLGAR
"If you don't do it, brother, I will," Rhaegar said, an insolent gleam in his lively green eyes.
Solgar just looked at him, all silence and irritation. His half-sibling had been bugging him for days to come out of the shadows, to be a true leader and bring his herd together rather than let them continue to drift apart from each other, as if they were all lost in their own vast sea of indifference. They were now at breaking point, both of them so tired of talking about it, having the same discussion over and over, that something had to give. Either Solgar did his brother's bidding, or one of them would soon explode in anger, and Rhaegar would leave.
In truth, he did not like how Rhaegar had been spinning tales of all the things he should do differently in his ear, as if he were the leader of this land and not Solgar. But he knew his brother was only looking out for him, for him and his herd. "If you don't do something, you will lose them all, as you lost Neassa," Rhaegar had told him some days past, and he knew it was true. If he did not change his ways, he will have returned to the islands two years ago for naught.
Finally, he moved with slow decisiveness, trying to resist the urge to limp as he put his full weight on his bad ankle. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a look of smug satisfaction light up his brother's face, but he tried to ignore that. He moved, and Rhaegar moved with him. Dark and light, together they were like yin and yang. And soon enough they came out of the trees, to look out across the flat expanse of crisp new snow which gleamed spectacularly in the moonlight. Here, at the edge of the treeline, they stopped. The sky was a dark, dusky blue, with clouds in the distance that promised a snowstorm, but Solgar knew his herd would not be sleeping just yet. Days in the arctic winter were all but nonexistent, but their internal clocks would still be ticking, helping them to maintain a relatively usual sleeping pattern.
Rhaegar looked at him, but Solgar avoided eye contact. He was staring at the distant form of his young son, his son who would soon be mature, his son who had grown distant from him since the disappearance of Neassa. To distract himself, he said flippantly, "They will wonder who this pale, handsome stranger that has been following me around like a starving cur is." Rhaegar laughed. Then the both of them were silent for some time.
Finally, he called them, his voice rough but strong.
6 & 11; MUSTANGS; PALOMINO ROAN & BLUE ROAN; 16HH & 15'3HH; SHIVA |