Po found himself nodding along agreeably, remembering the girl Araxes who he had met in the northern plains. She had been one of those with wings oddly placed beside each ear—he had not imagined they were common, or that there were others besides her with such a strange attribute. It made him wonder—briefly, for his heart did not wish to dwell on such possibilities or false hopes—that perhaps there were others with wings like his.
Such thoughts were quickly pushed away.
Instead he focused on the king—a bit more shyly now, knowing of his rank—as the crowned bay stepped closer to the wall. Po’s eyes traced the quizzical expression on his face, the furrow in his brow, the way his ears tilted in concentration. And when it seemed Kasil had found what he’d been looking for, Ipomoea stepped forward in equal interest, peering around the king’s shoulders for a closer look. It was true—underneath the heavy sheet of ivy was some other little plant, frail but fighting. He put his speckled nose to it, distinguishing its smell from the ivy in his mind, memorizing it, committing it to memory. “I see,” he said carefully, still focused on the tiny blossom. “Although I hope this doesn’t mean the ivy in its entirety must go…” Already he was envisioning in his mind a system in which each of these plants could live together, coexisting peacefully so that each could get sun and shine and flourish; he just had no idea how to start such a system. His own brow furrowed in concentration, the possibilities beginning to run rampant in his mind.
“Politics?” The switch from plants to business jarred his mind slightly, so that he looked up at Kasil with a dreamlike stare, as though not understanding what that could mean. And truly, he didn’t: having traveled with merchants or wanderers for the majority of his life thus far, he had known little more than freedom and the ability to go where he pleased, when he pleased, few responsibilities attached. But if Kasil had studied it, certainly it couldn’t be so bad as it sounded? “I’m sure it has his own perks?” he questioned. “Why else would someone study it?” Either way, it seemed the sort of topic best left untouched (for now), and Po was glad to move on to the next. “Kasil it is,” he promised him, though couldn’t resist throwing in a subtle dip of his head in respect, a miniature sort of bow.
“Oh, no. I mean yes, I think I came from here, maybe? But I’ve only just gotten here. I was found in Solterra as a foal, and now I’m here.” A simple yes or no would have sufficed, but Po was unafraid of sharing details of his life. “I think I like it here most, though—it feels like home. Like I’ve always been here.” His voice was clear and warm, as he looked happily across the plain the Dawn Court sat on. Flowers bobbed in the gentle breeze, birds chirping and singing in the nearby trees. It was so peaceful and beautiful—Po was convinced he’d never want to leave. Of course, he was prone to wanderlust, and sooner or later the itch to travel would crawl back beneath his skin; but it was to here, the Dawn Court, that he would return.
“Where were you during those months?” he asked curiously, returning his gaze back to the King, his new friend. He hardly even noticed the scrawny colt, maybe half his age or less, who hovered nearby, as though seeking an audience with the king himself.
@Kasil
Went ahead and started the close! I’m assuming the colt is a squire or something lmao but you’re free to interpret it and we can wrap it up! <3
!!!
