castillon of the prairie.
“Don’t do this, son.” His father’s words were patient, but warning.
Castillon’s black-lined, gold ears turned backwards (though they didn’t pin) and his lips pressed hard together. It took everything to keep him from verbally snapping at his father, feeling angrier and angrier with each passing second that crawled by where those blue eyes so gently implored him. Zevulun would rather the islands think the Prairie a place of easy-pickings. Garmr had come relentlessly season after season until he succeeded and, now that he had, who was to say he was done? If Castillon just sat here waiting… how long was it going to take that bastard to dismantle all the peace his father had so tirelessly built here?
After Aura was he going to move on to Hirka? To Eira? Would he come for his father’s herd? For Lir’s? And Zevulun thought they should just sit here and allow themselves to be picked off one by one.
A hard irritated breath blew out of Castillon’s mouth. This might’ve been the first time (or the start) of when he and his father were no longer seeing eye-to-eye. Youth and the arrogant confidence that came with it was giving Castillon the belief that he knew how to lead in ways his father didn’t.
“I’m not just your colt any more,” Castillon finally managed, his voice somewhat shaking with emotion as he struggled somewhere between wanting to cry (which made him feel like an ashamed child) and wanting to lash out physically to express the irritation swelling inside him. “I am the second of the Prairie and when I say this is for the benefit of our home, you should trust me on that.” His brown eyes locked with his fathers and his chin lifted.
He did not realize it, but that was the moment he finally looked so very close to his mother.
“Or do you regret naming me future heir of this home?”
Silence. Father looked at son and the son looked right back at him.
“Fine,” the older stallion said at last. “I trust you, son.” But though his voice said it, Castillon could see that he didn’t fully believe it. That was just as well, he could not believe in him all he wanted. Castillon knew what he was doing.
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It was some time after his conversation with Hirka that Castillon struck out to his next conversation to have before his departure. Though he was not suffering on his injured front leg as horribly as he had been shortly after the fight, he still favored it somewhat in his gait. He was well enough to travel without exacerbating it, considering the amount they would be swimming at first, but despite the physical healing his body was already showing, mentally… it had splashed cold reality right into the young stallion’s face.
He glanced over the painted form of Eira and sighed briefly before he whinnied out to her, drawing her attention and turning to make his way to greet her. He paused before her and, after offering his muzzle for a few greeting breaths, said, “I leave with Aura for the Lagoon tomorrow. I’ll come home in the winter.” His voice was level. Inarguable.
“Do you want to speak with me about it before I leave?”
whoever makes my baby cry is gonna lose some teeth tonight
stallion ∙ mutt ∙ zevulun x riesling ∙ buckskin snowcap ∙ 15.3 hands