The young stallion felt old. The troubles that clouded his mind, the memories he carried, the hardships he had faced since he was barely weaned; it was all starting to catch up to him. Still, he carried on with the day-to-day life, pretending like nothing was wrong. Like he didn’t hurt in ways that couldn’t be reached to heal. Bacardi had long ago stopped wishing for it to get better. For it to go away, and for the gentle innocence to return that had once allowed him to roam the Crossing with the ignorance a child had.


That part of him had died, just like those he had loved, and it wasn’t ever going to come back.


When a shrill call came from Falda, Bacardi startled. His dark thoughts falling even darker as his head swung in the direction her voice had come from, his golden eyes searching frantically for his daughter. When he spotted her, his heart gave an uncomfortable leap in his chest. Kesja? Even though it had been seasons since he had seen her, Bacardi would know the girl no matter the changes of age brought.


Before he even realized, a returning call had already ripped free of his lips. It echoed off the mountains that stood sentry as he quickly took off into a canter. The darkness that had surrounded him only minutes before fled; shedding away as if the sun was rising to chase away the night. Bacardi didn’t even pause to ask why the two sisters seemed angry with each other as he arrived. He only pulled to a halt when he had finally reached his missing daughter.


“Kesja” Bacardi greeted happily, his golden eyes gleaming with it as he barely took the time to look over how much she had grown. He reached out his black trimmed nose, pressing it to her neck for just a moment, before he pulled away enough to give her shoulder a nip. It was barely more than a tug of hair. “You took entirely too long to come home.”

six years. mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the bay.

"...speech"