his trip to luthien had been pleasant, though short. he still sensed a future there, even if he hadn’t secured it quite yet. the climate was cooler than evandr would have liked but for some reason he couldn’t help thinking that it might be a good compromise should faldne ever consent to making a home with him. he had seen her overt distaste at the idea of somewhere full of consistent warmth and sun… and he remembers fondly the surprise he had felt when she seemed disheartened that he admitted a love for such things, as if she believed the prospect of their future might be ruined by such a thing…as if she believed they might have a future at all despite their differences. evandr misses the small mare. his days are pleasant enough, mainly because the dark pearl stallion has a certain amount of happiness and contentedness ingrained into his very being… but still, there is a lack of something that is always stirring him. always causing him to lift his pink-brown muzzle from the grass and to keep his hazel eyes watchful for her sturdy painted form, even though she seemed determined that they would not meet again. distressed, even, at the prospect that they might. he knew it was silly then, to choose a home based on the thought of it being pleasing to her, but still the stallion had no other inclinations. why not choose somewhere that might be suitable to them both? just in the off chance that his promise to see her again rang with truth. at the moment he found himself too worn out from the journey to the prairie to go hunting in earnest for the painted mare, but he often daydreamed that he would start his search for her soon. he had sworn to her that their first meeting would not be their last. he hadn’t given himself enough time on the temperate isle to recover before journeying back to the crossing but this time, rather than waiting at the shoreline to rest, he pulls himself from the waters edge and moves inland, ignoring the thrumming of his heart and the way his lungs ache for air. he is driven mainly by thirst, not having wanted to venture to the heart of a foreign territory without first asking permission. his gait toward the sound of water, the falls, is a plodding walk, a strange ringing in his ears and a metallic taste in his mouth… if he could but have a drink, evandr thinks, he would be quite refreshed. a sigh of relief crosses his dark lips when his hooves finally sink into the soft earth at the edge of the stream-bed that meanders from the falls. his sides rise and fall sharply, but the shining brown stallion feels only pleasure as he consumes the cool clear water, dark mane cascading gently over his face as he takes in long draughts. when he finally looks up, droplets of water still hanging from the whiskers on his face, evandr feels the smile that breaks across his face at the view of the falls. his decision to come here, to leave his home and family, is only reinforced in the wake of these small experiences. though he would always miss them, there was still so much of the world to see, so many people he had yet to meet. |