The course beachgrass brushed along his knees, not quite as high as the Prairie grass grew, and far thinner and sparse as well. The ground shifted under him, warm sand sucking his hooves down into the soft, shifting grains and flinging each time he picked a foot up to walk further forward. There was a lazy breeze coming off the expansive stretch of ocean to his left, breaking what might otherwise be too much heat as the sun beat down, unobstructed by clouds in an endless, empty blue sky.

The night’s were cold on Salem in winter, as were the mornings, but as the sun rose high throughout the day it occasionally managed to break off the chill. This was nothing like winters on Luthien and even further from Tinuvel, though Ramiel had been so young when he’d grown up in the Bay he could barely remember exactly how hard it had been. The most recent experience he had were the winter’s he’d lived through in the Prairie thus far and having become accustomed to the snow it was quite bizarre to live somewhere that wasn’t covered in the white, icy blanket.

It had been enough time, a few weeks past even, that Ramiel could have attempted to flee the Dunes or even engage the quite-capable queen Nyimara in a battle to take back his freedom. But Ramiel seemed wholly unbothered and hadn’t yet tried or even behaved aggressively to indicate he was going to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to return to Luthien; he absolutely wanted to and thought of his family - his young siblings and his twin brother - frequently day-by-day.

But he had always been a curious sort and an explorer, and the Dunes offered new discoveries he’d never had the opportunity to make. Plus he had not been treated cruelly (maybe because he had been such a cordial captive), which didn’t make him as desperate to leave as he maybe should have otherwise been.

Ramiel flicked his full, pale tail (such a stark contrast to all the gold and black along his body), then lowered his muzzle to brush at the bare twigs of a sand cherry brush before idly snagging a mouthful of grass. It was nice, he supposed as he chewed, lifting his head and looking away from the ocean and back toward the expanse of inland, to not have to dig through snow to find his food this season.

Soon, he thought, he might finally take it upon himself to leave this place. For now… for now he set aside the guilt he felt at how content he was and simply chose to exist here in this place.


— ☼ —