As Bacardi leaves behind the crashing sound of the waves for the gentle noises of the Forest, he cannot help the feeling of contentment wash over him. To know they were sheltered here, protected here, just as the Forest had always been the place of fortitude among most storms. Only instead of Persephone standing guard, it was now his duty to do so. Could he carry such a heavy mantle on his own?


Twinge’s question makes him glance back at her, his ebony rimmed ears tipping in her direction briefly before he looks forward again. “For a brief time.” he answers. “Despite being a Peak mare, my mother chose to birth me here, in the Forest. Although, I’m not sure why. I lived here until I was old enough to make the swim to the Crossing.” Maybe his father had lived here on Luthien somewhere too? Perhaps it was a question he should ask Clarity one day, since their adventures to the mainland hadn’t awarded him any answers.


When they came upon one of the many little streams that snaked through the trees, Bacardi stopped to get a drink. Washing away the salt from his mouth helped to quench his thirst and after he had finished, he looked to Twinge once more. “We can rest here awhile.” he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “I’m a little tired from the swim.” An excuse, more or less, for the faint swell beginning along her flanks of the new life she carried. Better for him to take the blame, than to suggest she might need the rest instead.

mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the forest.

"...speech"