Summer was nearing the end, the eventual coolness of fall already on some of the afternoon breezes, the slightest crisp to the air once the sun’s heat left the sky. The Forest still hummed with activity of the warmest season, birds chirping, animals skittering about along the foliage and along the trees’ branches. It was as if life was on overdrive, scrambling to live to the fullest before bunkering down for the chillier seasons. Fall on Luthien wasn’t quite as harsh as it was to its northern sister, Tinuvel, but it was no walk in the park. It would get cold, snow would pile high, but the thick trunks would block the wind, branches would come together to form overhead shelters, a herd could come together and share their body heat. But first, the stout painted leader of this land would have to build his herd. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but it seemed that every time he thought another would wind up in the Forest… they disappeared instead.

Most notably was the first mare he had attempted to claim in the Common. While the hurt and grief of his lost mate and their colt had lodged its way into his heart for all these years from his past life, he felt that this new land could be a new start for him, and the golden painted mare captured his heart on first- and last- sight. He sighed; his heart heavy as he walked his lands alone. While he had managed to find previous residents who wanted to stay, a heavily pregnant mare and the colt at her side, he had yet to find another who tugged at his heart strings, who could pull the corners of his lips into a smile so large it hurt. He had never thought it was possible again before meeting Carpathia, but the fleeting moment she gave to him at least showed him it wasn’t beyond his grasp. It wasn’t that he wanted to let go of the hope she would come back to him, but he was tired of hanging onto the feelings that didn’t make him feel joy. He was tired of holding shards of glass in a tightly closed fist.

And so, with these thoughts he traveled his land. It seemed as if every time he roamed another stranger would end up in his boundaries, but he didn’t mind so much. It was less work for him if they made their way to the Forest on their own, although, he still did want to make his way around to the other leaders and introduce himself. The year had gotten away from him though; the cooler months were coming and while he was heavily muscled and thick boned, he didn’t take pleasure in the idea of swimming the ocean waters during fall or winter. Spring, he would make his rounds come spring.

Plate sized hooves clod heavily against the literfall covering the nutrient rich, dark soil. The thickness of the dead foliage and denseness of the earth quieted his heavy hoof steps, yet the noise would still thud against the eardrums of any nearby. However, scent carried further than sound in a place like this, and he picked up a whiff of yet another newcomer. Ears perked forward in curiosity, and he rumbled a nicker to let her know he was nearby. His four-beat gait remained steady, he did not have the impatience of youth, until she came into sight. She was rather stunning, a build vastly different than his own, her color solid yet vibrant, as if she were fire itself. He stopped several feet away, not wanting to startle her or make her uncomfortable, and he tilted his ears forward. “Welcome, I am Rilke, the leader of the Forest in which you find yourself. What is your name?” Figuring she would state her purpose for being here on her own, he didn’t bother asking and instead merely waited on what she had to say.