He'd never wanted to come back. He'd never wanted to leave in the first place, either. Louis had followed his father blindly, what choice did he have? Gael was all he had had, all he had known for quite some time. Even when they were angry with one another, the black and white colt had never strayed far. Even when he'd had every chance to run and find his own way, he'd followed his dad. He'd have followed him down into hell.
Maybe he had.
His father was chasing a ghost of what came before. A woman. A woman lost to the wind, lost to Gael, and yet he'd searched and searched. And Louis watched and listened to his father's ramblings about her. She was the light to his darkness, and he would search every inch of the world for her. She was also not Louis' mother. Instead of growing up the way perhaps a father and son should have, Louis was raised on the move in search of someone who he'd never even met.
His father was always there.
But he never really was.
Louis was lonely. He had company. He'd met a range of friendly faces on their search, and some angry ones too. But he'd never connected to anyone. There was always a disconnect. He'd be leaving them in a short while after all. When he was really young he'd made a friend, it had been a mistake. And he'd had to say goodbye, kicking and screaming, as his father lead him away. They'd found an inkling of a clue. A clue for a clue, really. And it had led them nowhere except disappointment.
Louis was always disappointed, but he loved his father.
Louis was always disappointed, but he hated his father.
The swim to the islands had been excruciating, and there had been a time when Louis had considered turning back. Refusing to take that first step into the water. But he'd be lost without Gael. He was lost with him, too. And yet Louis had chased into the water after his father, as blindly as Gael searched for his lost love.
The meadow was much different than he remembered, but his eyes and view had been much smaller the last time he had seen it. He didn't wander too far from Gael's side, enough that he could not hear or see him but the scent of him lingered on the wind. Salt water still clung to his obsidian and snow pelt as he moved quietly across the grasses. He lowered his head at a particularly green patch of grass, hungrily devouring the remaining shoots like a man starved.
LOUIS - GAEL X CLARITY - MUTT - BLACK TOVERO - 15.2HH - TWO YEARS