Kheldar’s Captain of the Royal Guard
The painted stallion would not normally have stood out so drastically excepting that the stallion with whom he traveled was the purebred Crown Prince of the kingdom they’d left behind. A black andalusian gave him an incredible foil of appearance. Where he was built tall and long, his [former] crown prince was thicker crested, compact lengthed, with a bit more heft to his appearance - at least enough to seem as great a beast as himself when they were not standing close enough to see the nearly full hand of difference in height.
They walk fairly companionably - as if they knew each other intimately, the kind of mirroring of movement one saw in battle companions. They’d been blooded in the same war, though Rosto had been blooded by the Underworld much earlier than Kheldar would have ever been given leave to so much as glimpse blood.
The upbringing of each was as such: The Crown Prince and The Prince of the People. Though a rogue, the Prince of Thieves, the rulership of the Underworld had come to him early and young due to the loyalty he garnered amongst both the ill reputed AND those who could allow the light of day fall on their works. He did more, it was said often, than the Crown ever did for those who were easily overlooked and underappreciated by the nobility. It had given him the greater acknowledgement of Prince of the People by the time he’d come across Kheldar. Kheldar was the Crown Prince, known for his justice and good nature - and later a noble character and skill on the battlefield. He was the most well liked of the unfortunate royal family…
Unfortunate, but did not yet know it. The uprising had sent out tremors amongst the people and while he had spent much time as the Captain of the Royal Guard beneath the Crown Prince, he yet maintained his rulership of the underbelly of the world at large. He caught wind and in the night he had told the Prince that it was time to make haste on a campaign from his father for a great glorious stone that was rumored to be the heart of the whole world… that his father would crown him properly with all the pomp he was due once it was discovered. Rosto was not, of course, pristine in his life - there had been lies both undiscovered and found alike - but Kheldar was always inclined to believe his battle-brother.
Rosto’s own cousin chose noble death to represent the Crown Prince in body, the Princess chose a life as the new Princess of Thieves, Princess of the People [for Rosto had known that he would forever incur the wrath and distrust of his Kheldar if he’d abandoned the yet young stallion’s sister, no matter how clever she was to get herself out of all kinds of mischief]. He’d left his own entire kingdom in her hands.
These islands would serve him fine, at the end of the world.
His eyes are those of a person so used to danger as to not need to flick back and forth, to and fro. They fix in a fogged sort of leisure, ears and nose enough for such open expanses as they now traveled. He would know well ahead of time if they should have company. His inkblot smeared white face turns to his liege, and perhaps more, with a drawling patience. "A week's ride into this new country and enough swimming to puke seawater for another week besides. Do you think now, your highness, we can pause for a proper graze?" It was a good humored taunt, one more for casual company than if anyone had been present with them.
OF THE LOST ISLANDS WILDS
▻ 6 years - iberian mutt - sooty bay tobiano rabicano Sabino - 16.1 hh ◅