It appeared he'd lost his mind. Not that he'd ever had a mind to begin with - birth as an amorphous cloud of energy had a tendency to ignore the traditional equine physique. But glaring through slitted eyes at the howling mountain pass, Kaladin's sanity was once again forced into question. Not his determination, however - no, that remained quite intact. He'd been following the rumors of the powerful relic across Novus - abandoning his post at the Dawn court temporarily to chase down his only hope at freedom. Not that he cared much for his herd or their mortal ways- he had joined in pure curiosity, and held no care nor loyalty towards his rank. It pained him, however, to miss any opportunity of gaining knowledge amongst his trivial peers. But there were greater things at stake.
Even now, the diamond pendant of his collar rattled against the top of his neck, blown to and fro by the wind, a painful reminder of all he had lost. He would break it, he thought, he had to or he would be nothing. The hate whirling in the pit of his stomach and driving him onwards, keeping him upright in moment when he feared he might fall.
The pebbles of the thin trail dislodged and tumbled beneath his hooves, and he was forced to press his flank against the mountainside. Its coarse, cool surface sent shivers across his skin - he was reminded once again of the frozen stone tomb in which he'd been incarcerated. Swallowing back bile, he continued, cursing his father's name with every step. He would have this relic. He would, or he would die trying and squander every inch of his father's creations across the spire-strewn ravine below.
His field of vision narrowed until it he was focused on the misty air just before him, carefully placing his steps upon the mountain path. For a moment, he thought he saw his father in the mist- a figure built of obsidian glass, harsh silver eyes and wings that could have belonged to an angel of death. His breath caught in his throat and he halted, the diamond at his throat flaring bright blue in alarm. The light was enough to dispel the illusion – the mist parted to reveal the body of a muscular silver mare coming towards him at a steady pace. She must be looking for the relic, he realized. There seemed no other reason for him to find any other traveler in this accursed weather. These damn meddling mortals. He squinted at the oncoming figure – she moved with the resolute familiarity of someone who had made this trek before. She could be of help to him, he realized. He could use her knowledge of the mountainous region in order to find the relic – but she mustn’t know they had the same goal.
He paused, form highlighted in a halo by the fading light of the cursed collar. He found it hard to find his voice – he had very little practice in lying. But he managed to formulate a rather convincingly piteous vocalization. ”Hello? Are you a traveler? I appear to have been lost.” He made his most convincing confused expression, one he’d seen on the faces of begging foals at the Dawn Court. “I- I’m stuck.”
Even now, the diamond pendant of his collar rattled against the top of his neck, blown to and fro by the wind, a painful reminder of all he had lost. He would break it, he thought, he had to or he would be nothing. The hate whirling in the pit of his stomach and driving him onwards, keeping him upright in moment when he feared he might fall.
The pebbles of the thin trail dislodged and tumbled beneath his hooves, and he was forced to press his flank against the mountainside. Its coarse, cool surface sent shivers across his skin - he was reminded once again of the frozen stone tomb in which he'd been incarcerated. Swallowing back bile, he continued, cursing his father's name with every step. He would have this relic. He would, or he would die trying and squander every inch of his father's creations across the spire-strewn ravine below.
His field of vision narrowed until it he was focused on the misty air just before him, carefully placing his steps upon the mountain path. For a moment, he thought he saw his father in the mist- a figure built of obsidian glass, harsh silver eyes and wings that could have belonged to an angel of death. His breath caught in his throat and he halted, the diamond at his throat flaring bright blue in alarm. The light was enough to dispel the illusion – the mist parted to reveal the body of a muscular silver mare coming towards him at a steady pace. She must be looking for the relic, he realized. There seemed no other reason for him to find any other traveler in this accursed weather. These damn meddling mortals. He squinted at the oncoming figure – she moved with the resolute familiarity of someone who had made this trek before. She could be of help to him, he realized. He could use her knowledge of the mountainous region in order to find the relic – but she mustn’t know they had the same goal.
He paused, form highlighted in a halo by the fading light of the cursed collar. He found it hard to find his voice – he had very little practice in lying. But he managed to formulate a rather convincingly piteous vocalization. ”Hello? Are you a traveler? I appear to have been lost.” He made his most convincing confused expression, one he’d seen on the faces of begging foals at the Dawn Court. “I- I’m stuck.”
