It really was not long before Ailill started to grow bored with his sweet grass. Though the memories were soothing and the lack of a homeland to return to held him in a strange place, he was eager to move forward and find what his return had in store for him. Just as his head raised another’s voice sounded against his ears. Perfectly relaxed, the man studied the other stallion. It was refreshing to him that this other did not approach him puffing and aggressive. Too often had other stallions taken themselves too seriously around others. With a smile, he uttered a greeting to the other pale eyed stallion. True words! And it has been far too long for me. He raised his head and let the calm fall wind ruffle his long mane and bring the salty scent of the sea that surrounded the islands. There was really no place like the islands. His heart cringed. There was no place like Atlantis. He grinned at the other man, feeling oddly comfortable in his presence. I was born on these islands and was Lord of Paradise until wonderlust dragged me away. With an exaggerated sigh of regret to mask his true feelings, he stepped closer to Bjorn, ears forward and attentive to his companionship and their conversation. My name is Ailill. Once upon a time it had been custom to list one’s lineage when greeting another. Ailill was the bastard child of a one night stand and had grown into a prankster, a dancer, a leader, a wanderer, and whatevr others had chosen to call him. Glancing him over and taking in his scent and stature, Ailill took a stab in the dark at assumptions about Bjorn. The shorter stallion stood and spoke with a confidence that spoke of comfort and knowledge in this place. His body was still covered in the scent of the water that surrounded them. Ailill could almost feel the history of the land radiating off this stranger.I take it you have been here a while and call the islands home? Where do you hail from? |