Everything happens for a purpose.
That’s what his father said, when he was still alive. So when plague ate their lands, when half the herd starved, and his mother had been eaten by wolves—Saith watched on with uncaring apathy. Even as she cried out for the young man to assist, he simply watched. Pale eyes taking in every, last, gory detail.
Everything….happens….for—
His father didn’t fair much better. Saith took that wonderful thing called fate into his own hands. A swift kick to the shin and the old stallion went tumbling. It wasn’t the young stud’s fault the old bag couldn’t climb his way out. After all—-
Everything. Happens. For. A. Reason.
A mantra so thick, that Saith almost could call himself god. Even as he walked the lands of a place not overly familiar, the pale gaze of the stallion was no more thrilled than a tree in a drought. The breeze caressed his mane, catching it in her hands as he briskly moved through the meadow. Alert, careful, repeating that saying over in his head. Wonder what the old man would think of him now? Exploring, not a single care in the damn world—free of the obligations that haunted him, free of the impurities his blood carried, allowed to grow his own roots wherever he saw fit.
For a moment, the corner of Saith’s mouth twitched in a small, ghostly smirk.