twin river spirit of khajiit and charybdis

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Euphrates angles one dark ear towards his sister's voice. He sees the turn of her head in his periphery, and pulls his mahogany gaze from the bluffs above to meet her own, flowing towards her as if it had been his plan all along. In a way, it had: they were two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole, born from the same water of their mother's womb. They had a bond stronger than anything, one that went beyond clever words and knowing glances. And like streams emptying out into the sea, they would always find each other, no matter the winding paths their separate journeys forged.

The colt follows her now, lipping at his sister's white brush-tail as they clamber atop the rocks. The other foals might have joined them, if they didn't stay so close to the herd. The twins had no need - for neither the protection the group offered nor the company. They were young, yes, and just barely weaned off mare's milk, but they had each other, and more stubborn self-determination than the adults could handle. Euphrates picks footholds with ease, shell-pink hooves finding tiny divots without so much as a look back at the rocks tumbling down the cliffs behind him, and only when they stand on the highest peak, their panting, exhaled breaths feathering warm over their sweat-glistened skin, does he survey all that lays below.

Not even shadowclad Faolain could reach such great heights. Euphrates leans into his twin's soft touch, his heart pounding with exertion, and sweeps bright eyes across the horizon. Like a snag on a thread, he, too, locks onto the storm rolling in over the waves, nares flaring to catch the scents of fresh rain and sea-brine blowing his short mane to and fro. Tigris speaks, and he cuts a glance towards her, a small smile tugging the corners of his spotted lips. "Yes," he answers, his young voice ripe with the possibility of it. They were no strangers to tempests; nobody on Atlantis was, not unless you lived deep in the recesses of the forest, where the gusts could not bend the trees to kiss the earth and the rain could not pelt down like pebbles on their skin. The filly speaks once more, a flash of lightning striking in the distance, and only when a clap of thunder bubbles like lava from the cracks between the clouds does he nod, satisfied, and turn back down the mountain. To the ignorant, it might have looked as if they wandered aimlessly, but Euphrates leads them with purpose along narrow hoofpaths towards the sound of running water. He longs to see the river, to watch its placid banks turn wild and unpredictable once swollen with rain - but something stops him long before he ever reaches it.

The colt draws up short, curved ears pricked and pointing to the side. A scent floods his nostrils, tangy and sickly-sweet and unlike anything he's ever smelled before, and he peeks wordlessly at his twin before angling himself protectively in front of her. Carefully he steps off the path, pushing away leathery monstera leaves.

"Sister dear," he beckons over his shoulder, voice low. When she stands beside him, he shifts his gaze back, peering at his quarry. In the copse lies a stallion, heavily asleep, white like seafoam with flecks of inky black. His limbs sprawl out haphazardly, chest rising and falling as he snores through green-stained labrums. Euphrates grins wide, his tail swishing as his thoughts run far afield.

"Do you remember," he says, taking a step towards the slumbering beast, "what mama told us about our papa?"

They were but children, not yet soothsayers or oracles or diviners, with only a limited scope of the world. Even Charybdis' disjointed, nonsensical ramblings only gave them a brief picture of the man they knew as father. And yet - as the twins stand, side-to-side, and look upon the curly-eared creature in their midst, Euphrates can feel the dam of their ignorance weakening. Only moments, now, until the font of their knowledge bursts forth, sweeping away everything from before in its powerful, rushing current.



~~~~~



euphrates

haunted by waters