black horse reaping;
He regards the stallion with little interest. The island would always change. They were like the waters surrounding them. Washing away and spitting out.
It is not surprising when the stallion begins his pitch. Gael flicks an ear, he listens. He had never truly belonged anywhere on the islands. A mercenary for hire when he first arrived and a blackened heart.
The Lagoon.
Gael smiles and tilts his head. He was not an ugly stallion but time had turned him sour. “
I have not been to the Lagoon in many years,” Gael said. “
I remember when it was strong. When other horses feared the Lagoon and its brothers.”
A world away, he thought, when she was at the Peak. When he would stare up at the snow covered mountains and wait for her to come to him. It was not worth mentioning.
“
Do you remember? Ah, those days are long gone,” Gael snorts, his muzzle drops to the ground to nibble at a few spare shrubs. “
But,”
It hangs there, he chews.
There is silence and a dreadful weight.
Gael lifts his head, his face delicate in the lines of his nose and the span of his forehead. “
But we could make it an empire again,” he cocks his head, he was not sure how the stallion would take to the word we.
“
I do not desire to be the boss,” Gael makes it blunt. “
My desires are my own, but I will help you if you will help me when the time comes.”
He shrugs a little, looking away from the stallion near him.
“
We can make them afraid, brother.”
gael