Meadow

Işıksız has no intention to remain kenneled at home like a dog come to heel. He does not like the perception others have of him, that he is a hound at Marceline's beck and call— though why they seem to think that is the case only speaks to how little they know of the relationship between the Hills monarchs. Işıksız goes where he will, when he wills it; not once has the spotted queen pointed her finger and commanded, 'Fetch!'

Still, he supposes it must suit him to be considered such in the eyes of others. Being underestimated allows the most room for surprises.

He stops by Atlantis in the earliest hours of dawn, seeking, and is repelled by the stink of stallion to the south and east. Neither belongs to the rose-gold giant of old. The other two territories reek mainly of mare, though the evidence of stallions in residence there does give him pause. They are strangers all, however, and soon enough he has crossed the sea and dragged himself onto the cold winter shores of the Crossing without having engaged with any of Atlantis' residents.

The morning sun sparkles over the new snow and Işıksız blinks his eyes against the glare. He moves at a purposeful trot, warming himself against the chill of the day as he covers the distance between himself and his next destination. Anticipation flutters in his gut. Though there is no blizzard today and the morning light that warms the scattered trees of the Meadow reveals much, it almost feels like the night he first arrived. To the heart of it, he thinks with relish, just as his eyes catch on a pair of white-patched horses through the trees. He slows, thinking he recognizes one, but as she turns to converse with her companion he sees she is much too gray to be the Marauder. Fully the wrong sex, too, but the similarity is such that Işıksız momentarily abandons his route to venture toward them.

He slows, pausing finally a little upwind of them both, dipping his narrow head in a casual greeting as his dark eyes pass over them both. His gaze lingers on the grayer of the two. "Good weather for a stroll today," he remarks, allowing his eyes to rest again on the darker, taller of the two. They flick back to Aventuras. "You look like a fellow I once knew," he says with an easy grin, "Though you're much prettier than he ever was."