in sunshine and in shadow
It is a strange feeling he gets, returning to Terrastella for the first time after seeking refuge (fleeing his conscious tells him, less kind) in the Night Court. It is mingled sorrow and relief, saltwater to both soothe and burn. Everything he has come to know about the court has been remade; trees that were landmarks have been uprooted and washed away, hills have reshaped by mudslides, fields are pocked with sinkholes.
He wonders how it might ever recover.
Asterion has come alone for this - not even his companion Cirrus is with him. The gull is not too far - she rarely is - but he had wanted no company as he took stock of the wreckage.
Bleak, bleak, bleak - but a spring sun is shining overhead all the same.
Near the swamp it looks a little more normal, but there is still a despairing pang in the king’s heart as he notes the floodwaters, the way everything is brown, water and mud and bare branches.
As Annabeth had, the bay stallion hears the noise first; when he turns toward it he wonders how he could have missed the mare, for she is the brightest thing about the day.
He catches her words as he approaches, and his searching gaze goes to the extracted next, the pink and grey birds within.
“If they’ve made it this far, I think they’ll be alright,” he says, and he isn’t sure whether it sounds more comforting or grim.
He hopes the former, as he glances again at the unicorn, noting the dampness of her hide and the shine of her dark eyes. Under normal circumstances he might ask her what’s wrong, but he hardly has room to talk; his own ribs are thin as winter branches, and all the star-shine is gone from his coat. The past weeks have weathered him, and he is no less lean or weary for his time in Denocte.
So he says nothing of her condition, only steps softly closer, not too near either her or the birds but enough to get a better look at all of them. After a moment’s consideration (one hatchling considering him balefully, the other with eyes gleaming and eager) the bay glances back toward the girl, wearing a slim smile. “I have a friend who may be able to help,” he says, and sends a silent thought to Cirrus. Come. I need your expertise.
As the gull wheels her way from over the sea, his attention goes again to the dun.
“I never thought much of the wildlife in Terrastella until the storms.” He sighs, thinking of the otters that he had helped Israfel rescue from the rapids, the creatures who sought shelter in the castle itself, and the endless group of gophers. “It was narrow-minded of me. This is their home as much as ours.”
And they are all suffering and surviving together.
@Annabeth :)
