KING OF SCROLLS
The water was cool against his throat, a compliment to the chilly weather that the fall had brought to Delumine. Soon enough, it would be replaced with the frigid winter -- the season of his birth, but by far his least favorite of them. Winter was always such a dark and desolate time, and already he could tell that the birdsong was becoming less and less. It was stranger still, he thought -- that winter would bring around the end of his first year as a ruling sovereign. The time seemed short and long all in the same moment, but at least things seemed to be coming together. He had not been cast out or challenged for his rule, which he thought must mean that he was doing something right. The chocolate colored stallion left his dark lips against the water’s surface, his equally dark gaze sweeping over the terrain before him.
The leaves were almost all fallen from the trees, autumn drawing to a close. He had just missed the festival, his journey to the mountains taking him far longer than he would have liked. If he had been alone, he might have been able to manage the trip in just a matter of days -- but with the small entourage he had been traveling with, many of whom had no other way but their own feet to travel, it had proved difficult to get very far very quickly. Next time, he thought, he would go alone despite their protesting.
The Rapax River was a deceptive thing, particularly when it came to sections of it like this. Beneath the seemingly placid surface was something moving so swift that it would drag a grown horse off of his feet and down further where rocks waited to crush bone. A tricky, tempting mistress -- especially in the heat of summer. Kasil lifted his head from the water’s edge, stray drops of the life giving liquid rolling down his chin and staining his rich, dark pelt. He knew all too well how easy it was to be caught in such a trap, had felt the water's wrath more than once in his youth and had been lucky enough to escape her snare without too much harm. It was his thoughts that drew him away from the edge, a mindless habit to wander while he sifted through thoughts and memories. The grass gave way to rock and sand in spaces, before melding back into wavering, dancing blades of green once more. Some of the blades tickled his soft underbelly, while others threatened to snare his limbs.
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