ooc: even though I haven’t wrapped up what’s happened in the ridge I didn’t want to wait any longer to start this thread!!!!
When it had mattered most, Kestrel had failed. If not for his grandfather, he would have bore witness to the death of his mother and newest born sister. Hell, if not for his grandfather, he might’ve wound up dead himself.
As Talya left Atlantis to travel to Luthien alongside her newest friend, Kestrel had made up a lie about going on adventures of his own and didn’t travel with them. Talya had been so excited that Kestrel was finally going to go out and explore and have fun instead of being so “worried all the time” and he’d somehow managed to laugh and smile. He hadn’t cried until he was sure she was too far away to hear him do so.
Now he was on Crossing Isle, in the meadow, but he wasn’t the kind, gentlemanly (if not somewhat exasperated) young stallion trailing after his boisterous mother, apologies at the ready for whoever she’d disturbed. He was standing quietly just a little ways off from a few other horses spending their time grazing down the still lush summer grasses. Occasionally his eyes drifted toward them when movement caught his peripherals, but their chocolate color did not warm or brighten, they stayed dull and dark and sad, and then he looked away again.
Shortly after there was movement again, and Kestrel found himself slowly drifting a lazy glance in the direction…
Then, for whatever reason, he felt himself take in a sharp breath and his eyes became more focused on what he was seeing. It was an unknown mare with dark bangs and eyes so large and pretty, he could see they were blue from where he was standing. Before he’d come to understand why he was moving, the young stallion was turning his body around and slowly walking toward her as if he was in a dream.
Maybe he was...
Kestrel stopped near her and swallowed the sudden hard knot of anxiety that’d crawled up into his throat, cautiously stretching out his neck to offer his muzzle to hers, where they could exchange first breath’s and he could learn more about her. Uncertainty shimmered ever-so-briefly in his eyes, a small, doubtful voice in his head questioning why he could think she might ever want to talk with him. Before he could give it enough volume, Kestrel spoke. His voice was soft, and a bit smaller than normal, dredged with the sorrow that’d permeated him for weeks now. “Hello… My name is Kestrel,” he couldn’t help himself, he just had to know… “What’s yours?”
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