A Prince.
Braylen had listened respectfully to his father but that had stuck the most. Finally it had come true, he now held himself over the others without the rank of his father being in the way. With a crooked smile he gave a nod but realized that had not been the only part of the conversation. The thought of blacking out was more definitely daunting and Braylen couldn’t help but wonder if it was hereditary? He had never heard of Accalia doing it, from what Skylar had said and in thinking of those two he couldn’t help but feel a dull ache in their absence. They had been gone for quite some time.
“Mother will return” he said, reaching over to bump his father’s cream shoulder. “She has spoken of the Peak often to me and each time the ache is stronger in her voice. I’m sure it was just too overwhelming for her finally.” The painted boy said, hoping to reassure his father. Braylen briefly wondered if his mother really would return of if she would find rank once again with the warrior women. “Besides, you have been awfully busy. Perhaps she thought it best to leave you to bond with your new ladies” he added and reached over to nip at the pale locks of his father’s mane playfully.
“I’m positive Accalia is fine also” Braylen went on after he had pulled his face away. “She is strong willed and old enough to look after herself. I’m sure she has some poor stallion wrapped around her hoof by now. I feel sorry for him even.” He smirked, a chuckle of amusement escaping his lips as an image of his sister bossing some stallion around came to mind. Accalia was never short on opinions.
“So you see?” he asked, swishing his tail at the man who had sired him. “There is nothing to be riled up about. In fact, you should be celebrating your new position!” he said and gave a toss of his head, the wind picking up and making the energy flow back into his muscles much like it had earlier. Mane whipping against his neck and tail swirling around his hind legs, Braylen couldn’t help but feel the need for play. He was young and was ready for anything. “Why not a good run, hm?”
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