[P] Summer Dreams, Ripped at the Seams

[Galileo]

galileo kodarki

i felt the touch of the kings and the breath of the wind

Home was a farflung memory, tied to a distant life bound up in dreams that had ebbed and flowed as easily as the tides.

The unfamiliar faces, the new lands to discover, and his own unwillingness to meet anybody had hidden him away from the world in the rumbling bowels of Solterra. It had been the closest he'd found to the warmth of Elysium's rolling dunes, and although it had lacked the blood red sands lapping at his hooves, it had, at least, kept him in some sort of capricious sanity. 

There hadn't been many times when Galileo had been without a purpose; he knew how much he hated the feeling and so, whenever he  found himself tumbling into aimlessness, he had sought out a new one. Recently, however, he had not cared to follow under someone else's rules, and had found himself wandering around stuck in his own thoughts. Shockingly, he had no desire to serve, to find someone worthy of his life -- a life he would have previously surrendered to any worthy royal or commander who had asked him to.

So as he took to the prairie that day, a place he'd been multiple times now, but never truly noticed, he went with the expectations that he would walk and think and reminisce on happier days. The romanticised version of his life played on repeat in his head, and his eyes were dulled from the carelessness that racked his muscular form. Even the way he walked had changed, going from his proud, purposeful stride to a gloomy drift.

There was no place for him here.

In the midst of his despondency, something brushed against him. It had felt so real, like the touch of a velveteen muzzle from a friend, and he had shuddered as a cold chill ran down his spine. 

Suddenly, he was alert. 

There was nothing near him, no leaf that could have touched him, no tree branch that could have scraped him... For a moment, he thought perhaps he had dreamed it. The gods had abandoned him long ago, if they ever had favoured him, so he didn't believe it to be them. 

Antlers raising to the sky, he turned his head. Left, then right, then behind... and there, there was someone on the horizon. Their form danced a little in his ageing sight, and he peered closer in an attempt to understand if they were friend or foe. To their side, they had wolves... no, dogs. Whoever it was looked unsteady on their feet, not menacing, and he slowly started to move towards them, spurred on by a feeling inside that he could not quite explain. As he moved, the power he had harnessed for all those years but that had recently been abused came flooding back.

And he ran.

Towards her, speeding up as he went, hooves like drums on the prairie floor. With every inch he drew closer he became an inch more joyful, and threw his head back with a gleeful whinny. It was clear she was in shock, not believing her eyes at the ghost he had become to her, and he skidded to a halt just before reaching her, dancing around her as though he were a foal.

"I found you! I found you!" He called out, his usually deep and husky tone full of emotion and hope.

And then, he stopped, and drew closer to her. Breathing hard from the pace he had run at, he met her eyes and ruffled her mane with his mouth affectionately, pulling as close as he could to her side. With a whisper, he dipped his head into her shoulder, though he was much taller than the mare and had to bend considerably.

"Luvena, my friend."

- 

@Luvena
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