Zevulun had babes at his hip for as long as he could recall. When Avalon and Izizel had disappeared from the Bay, Ramiel and Raziel had often clung to either side of Zevulun, brushing up against him and sharing his warmth as they trekked through the territory. Thus the Prairie lead was entirely unbothered as the colt bumped up along him and waited for him to guide the way.

Together the pair struck off and Zevulun minded his stride, keeping himself in-tune to the boy’s gait. It was nicer anyways for him to walk slower, the less he stressed his old injuries, the better. At brief intervals he’d glance down at Cruise, hoping to catch the boy’s expressions as he studied the Prairie. A child’s fascination was always something rather special to Zevulun and he felt as if he saw the world anew through their eyes every time. To be able to see the wonders of the Prairie from the way his children grew up in it was one thing, but what of a young colt who’d grown up in the Forest? Zevulun smiled fondly and glanced back around them at the stretch of gently rolling hills they walked along.

If Cruise asked any questions along the way, Zevulun was more than happy to answer them, but it took little time at all for the pair to approach the large, shallow, slow-moving river he’d spoken of. Just a little ways beyond it was the scattering of trees that eventually closed in together to make the Forest.

“What kind of rock should we look for?” He asked Cruise as they made their way to the bank and he splashed in, enjoying the cool waters rolling over his fetlocks. His blue eyes glanced down toward his hooves, head dropping to hover somewhat above the water’s surface and get a close look at the rocks that were lying beneath the water. There was limestone and agate, quartz and chert among others, though they all looked far brighter beneath the water than the dry pebbles along the bank appeared to be.

A distant, beckoning whinny drew his attention and Zevulun lifted his head sharply, squinting off into the Prairie at the direction the cry had come. His daughter, Dolores, who would be seeing her second spring in a few seasons, came into view over the hills, slowing herself to a trot as she descended down to the bank toward them. She was grinning happily, dark blond and brown tail flagged off her white-covered hind. Her blue eyes (same color as her father’s) snapped from her father to the unknown colt and she brightened even more. “Hiya! Are you guys looking for rocks? Can I join too?” Though she’d grown older, she still hadn’t transitioned from her bubbly, quick way of talking.

Zevulun chuckled lightly and offered introductions to the pair. “Cruise, this is my daughter Dolores. Dolores, this is Cruise, from the Forest.”