The evenings were always made for silent reflection. They allowed Rhone a moment of peace to think about the day, to think about what was done right and what could be done better. It was a time for him to plan for his day tomorrow and generally relax. Granted, the stallion was never one who got so uptight that he truly needed to unwind. Rhone was that type of creature that would go with the flow. Rhone would make lemonade out the lemons life had gave him.
You see, this is not Rhone’s first home. He came here seeking a new life where he might be able to right his wrongs. The stallion was once a lover, a father, and a king and he had filed in each of those roles. But with that failure came a knowledge that he knew he could use to help others guide themselves down a similar path. And so, Rhone had promised to use his bad experiences in order to guide others so he might not make them again.
This particular night, Rhone had been in the Susurro Fields, growing a field of flowers. You see, Rhone worships Brighton, a god of Earth from his past life. Brighton gave him power over all things in the earth – the grass, the flowers, the trees, the weeds, and the dirt that surrounded them all. Rhone was all about things of beauty, and so he made it a habit to grow something each day so others might look upon it and only see beauty.
After his patch of roses were grown and Rhone saw that all was good, he allowed his magic to settle back in him as he made his way back to his home in court proper. But there was something along the way that caught the bay’s attention. A young mare, no older than two or three he suspected, was looking up at the moon in silent reflection. Her color seemed to blend so perfectly with the night sky. She was beautiful in that sense. Not only that, but she was a new and unfamiliar face. He had to welcome her to Terrastella.
His course changed lightly and he made his way towards her at a leisurely pace. He did not wish to rush up on her. He made sure his steps were loud enough for her to hear. After all, the last thing he wanted to do was startle her. The moon was full and light up the small field and as he stepped closer to her, it would offer her a chance to view him completely. Unlike herself, he was plain and ordinary. He had no vibrant colors, no horns, no unique eyes. He was plain and that was just how he had come to love himself. "She is beautiful when she is full, is she not?" The she he was referring to was the moon. Her bright, full body light up the sky. Speckled around her were stars that guided the way. It was a beautiful night tonight.
@Moonlight
