Ridge

The sunset casts a syrupy orange-red glow across the calm surface of the sea. Renvari stands with his hooves in the warm shallows, feeling the waves swell languidly up to his knees before sliding back down to his feathers again. It’s peaceful, but Ren’s mind is buzzing too much to enjoy it.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He should have listened when Tyr began to groom him for leadership, but he had taken it too lightly. He had assumed that both his parents would be here for his first few steps as a guardian, but they’re not, and he is alone. It isn’t either of their faults; Faolain couldn’t help dying, and Tyr couldn’t do much but watch as the Lagoon brute wiped the floor with his unworthy son. Renvari misses them both, but the pressure of the circumstances under which he misses them have formed the feeling into hard, glittering resentment. Undeserved resentment, but resentment all the same. At least, solid and unyielding as it is, the feeling suits him better than grief. It’s supportive, in its own way.

Soft splashing draws the speckled dun’s ears behind himself. He knows immediately who it is that approaches, not because he’s so in tune with his surroundings that he’s impossible to fool, but because the splashing is lopsided. Weaver has a limp.

"What?" he asks flatly as she halts beside him. She’s hardly a child, almost as tall as he is now, and Ren suspects her lanky build will follow her into adulthood. Probably her attitude as well.

"What yourself," she responds, locking her knees to rest. Ren doesn’t know if her injury actually still bothers her, or if she favors the leg out of habit, but she never complains, and she’s hardly slowed down by it. He eyes her suspiciously without turning his head, and she wrinkles her nose at him. He flicks his tail at her, snapping the coarse salt-and-pepper ends against her hip, and she makes an irritated sound.

Neither of them speak. Weaver doesn’t ask what he’s doing in the surf at sunset, even though she knows it’s not for the view. Renvari doesn’t ask why she’s up in his space right now. They just stand quietly for a little while, watching the gentle waves.

stallion | mutt | grullo snowflake sabino | 16.1hh | ridge