Not completely oblivious to the silent exchange and understanding that passed between the adults, the colt waited patiently for them to connect. Young, hopeful, and idealistic, he was not under the delusion that either of these adults would simply accept him as a legitimate leader. Not that he would have wanted them to, anyway. Their lives and their experiences were obviously great. Living in the world for as long as they had, especially compared to him, would have given them a wealth of wise power that he could only hope to grasp one day. Though respect was due to all, these two would hold an entirely different kind of feeling behind the honors. He wanted them to stay here, not because of the use they could be to him, not because of the power they could give his home, but because of the wealth of energy and history they colored the forest with. No matter what became of him, Ailill wanted to ensure Macabre and Tarrant were held in the highest esteem in Paradise.
Still calmed by the stallion’s demeanor, he quietly let the stallion exchange his own greeting and make his own investigations. Ears flicked forward in interest at the stallion’s expressions. Unsure about what was going through the elder’s mind, Ailill’s head tilted to the side, waiting to see what was causing these reactions in the man who seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. He had gone to investigate something by the water while the adults seemed to speak. Once Tarrrant addressed him again, he lifted his golden head, his own eyes widening slightly.
He had little to no regard for his father, not knowing the man and having never met him. But he understood the importance of family. His loyalty to his mother and sister ran thick, this man had just claimed a position among their ranks.
An entirely different kind of smile lit up the boy’s face. Head high, he stepped proudly up to his great grandsire, and then bowed low, giving him the respect he knew he deserved. Playful at heart, he still knew how to be serious.
“It is an honor, grandsire, to be part of your blood.” One ear flicked back again in uncertainty, but his head still rose once more with pride, at least hopeful pride. “I hope I can make you proud, and this place will thrive. The place that you are one of.” Once more he hesitated, his hopes and desires conflicting with instinct and possible threat. “I hope you will stay here, stay and bring this place back to greatness. Both of you.” He turned again to Macabre. She had led him around the island. Kind, and caring though at times quiet and aloof. Both of them were seemed so thoroughly a part of Paradise he could not imagine his new home without them. Both would be residents of honor wherever he would be. Or so he determined.
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