So, this was his new home; his new court. Camdis was surprised at the lack of animosity that he felt toward the fortress and it's people.
The stallion's obsidian hooves pressed heavily against the cobbles of the court yard, the clacking sound echoing sharply off of the towering stone walls that surrounded him. Yet, it did not feel as if the walls were trapping him, smothering him as they did in the castle that stood as his birthright. No, instead, the mammoth stone of the Night Court felt more like an all-encompassing embrace, a motherly protection.
It felt like asylum, and for the first time in his months of travel, in his ages of fleeing the crown that demanded his presence, Camdis felt safe.
The relief that thrummed within his veins was a palpable thing, for the Exile King's shoulders drooped and his great head lowered, his breath coming easily at last. Though, despite having found what some dark, kindly corner of his mind had titled home, Camdis still felt as if he were searching for something. It was there on the breeze, bursting through the sky, beating like a drum within his chest, the exhilaration of the chase, the search, the discovery, the victory. His pulse quickened as he slowed to a stop in the night-darkened courtyard, silvery eyes gazing out at the deepening shadows and flickering torches.
What was here? Had it summoned him to this land? What was his purpose here?
Maybe the answer would be in whatever he found along the way.
The stallion's obsidian hooves pressed heavily against the cobbles of the court yard, the clacking sound echoing sharply off of the towering stone walls that surrounded him. Yet, it did not feel as if the walls were trapping him, smothering him as they did in the castle that stood as his birthright. No, instead, the mammoth stone of the Night Court felt more like an all-encompassing embrace, a motherly protection.
It felt like asylum, and for the first time in his months of travel, in his ages of fleeing the crown that demanded his presence, Camdis felt safe.
The relief that thrummed within his veins was a palpable thing, for the Exile King's shoulders drooped and his great head lowered, his breath coming easily at last. Though, despite having found what some dark, kindly corner of his mind had titled home, Camdis still felt as if he were searching for something. It was there on the breeze, bursting through the sky, beating like a drum within his chest, the exhilaration of the chase, the search, the discovery, the victory. His pulse quickened as he slowed to a stop in the night-darkened courtyard, silvery eyes gazing out at the deepening shadows and flickering torches.
What was here? Had it summoned him to this land? What was his purpose here?
Maybe the answer would be in whatever he found along the way.
COME MEET THE GROUCH
