Damscus snorted, clearing the salt from his nostrils. The breeze blew gently, and he shivered. Well, he had been impulsive running into the cold ocean water but he wasn't a yearling anymore. He clambered his way to shore, his legs occasionally striking the ground before he managed to find purchase. Water dripped from his coat, and he shook himself off.
The wind shifted suddenly, bringing with it a plethora of new information, and a scent that had all but become unfamiliar. Kin. A deep instinct caused him to flare his nostrils, and he stilled for a moment, hesitating between instincts. Why was his brother here, and what did he want? The young stallion was tempted to chase him off. He could already hear the teeth snapping and the bodies clashing against each other. But he resisted. There was nothing here to protect. The past was better left in the past and he wouldn't be the one to bring up the death of their mother.
Instead, the stallion made his way towards Oberyn, relaxing his posture to indicate that he came without ill intentions.
"Damascus?"
His brother's voice rang out across the beach, and Damascus eagerly picked up his pace. They had went their separate ways last time, without malice but also not on good terms. His life hadn't changed since then, and Damascus had found himself pining for the days in which they had played, the two inseparable as the moon and her stars. He reached his brother and arched his neck, drinking in the familiar scent of warm days, green grass, and salty oceans while allowing Oberyn to do the same.
"How have you been, brother?" He turned and started to walk back towards the alcove, and made sure Oberyn was following him. He still felt awkward. The last time they had been together he remembered a spat and heavy silences as the two tried to figure out where they stood. The extra year and some of complete isolation had lowered his bar and now he just craved intelligent company.