Annubis spent several days combing the familiar trails of Paradise in search of Hymn and, hopefully Promise, but to no avail. Considering the painted mare had lived on Atlantis nearly as long as he had, it was not really a true surprise. Honestly, the best he could hope for is that Hymn would choose to abandon her hidden conclave when she was ready. Promise had said she was healing, albeit slower than either would have wanted. Perhaps he had pushed her too soon. The need to lay his eyes on her too selfish. She was still recovering after all even if her wounds were not visible to the naked eye. That alone made them harder to heal.
But instead of weighing the pros and cons of tearing apart Paradise to ensure her well-being, the sterling stallion forces himself to focus on another task. Reviving Paradise to the thriving herd it had once been when Rougaru ruled as the beast of the jungle.
Even if he has made the swim countless times in his lifetime, the recent near-drowning on Tinuvel made him gun-shy of the rolling ocean. Patiently, he waited for the tide to shift, choosing to make his visit to the Crossing with the lowest tide that allowed him to locate the stretch of sandbar that nearly connected the two islands. It was not nearly as prevalent as he would have liked, but he did manage to gain some level of control over his rising heart rate.
By the time he wades ashore on the main island, Annubis is feeling even more confident. He had made it without swallowing even one mouthful of salt water. That was a win to be proud of. Clearly, he wasn’t meant to meet the gods just yet.
But as he makes his way over the tide line towards the paths carved by countless hooves through the dunes of sand, movement ahead draws his gaze. Raven-tipped ears pitch forward amid the tangle of his dark mane as the stallion angles his head to fix his multifaceted gaze on the drenched creature.
Pity? Was it pity, the emotion that tugged his hooves towards the sand-covered mare? Sympathy? Likely. He understood all too well just how draining the swim between islands could be, especially if one found themselves caught in the seas at the wrong time. Whatever the real reason, Annubis drops his shoulders, lowering his broad head towards the ground in what he hopes she might interpret as a sign that he meant her no harm. A deep baritone rumbles in his chest as the stallion let his gaze roam over her water-logged form. He stops a respectful distance away from her, not wanting to startle or cause her any undue harm.
”Did you find yourself caught in a storm? They can be bad this time of year.” he asks, as a way of opening up friendly conversation. At least he hopes so anyway.
.