sephiroth
Masamune had been gone from the Thicket for over a year now. The young stallion had left to find himself, but had promised to return. And yet, he still had not. If he'd had more children maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. And if they hadn't all abandoned him. Logically he knew he hadn't been abandoned, even if it felt that way. Like everyone in his life had left him. Each time the Thicket would grow silent his heart would too. With a heavy heart the speckled stallion had made the swim to the mainland that he had made time and time again. He could always find Masamune's scent but it had never yet been strong enough to actually locate him. Whatever his son was doing, stay in one place was not one of them.
If Sephiroth had not been so wrapped up in his own head, obsessing over his loneliness, Lirael's scent would have stood out more. After all, he'd left originally to try and find his sister and his mother. He'd never found them, a series of events that led him to who he was now. Sephiroth's herd, whether by blood or simply association, had brought light back to him. But deep down, he was still that young boy who yearned to be close to his family. His children has been a balm for his weary, damaged soul, but it had not been enough. Especially now.
Without realizing it, Sephiroth had switched from following Masamune's scent to Lirael's. It was only when he stopped a few paces a way that he finally noticed. His entire body went still, like a deer in headlights. Ever-green eyes widened slightly, framed in porcelain white. His ears pressed forward through the tangle of his forelock and his jaw tightened. It couldn't be, could it? He could feel his heart hammering in his chest.
"Lir-," his voice quaking,
"Lirael?" There was disbelief written on his face, pain in his furrowed brow; but hope in his eyes. Sephiroth lifted a leg, intending a step forward, but quickly put it back down.
"Is it really you?" He was far from the gangly child he had once been. He had grown strong and the story of his life was written across his flesh. Scars and fresh white hairs dotted his speckled coat, a blizzard on his skin.