The stillness of the meadow shattered suddenly, like a an ancient porcelain vase knocked to the floor by some careless mortal. In one moment, he was enjoying the fragile construction of the natural world, and the next there was an unwelcome voice one the wind shouting greeting. He turned in an abrupt half-rear, head thrown high in alarm and crystal pendant flaring in tandem with his sudden burst of emotions. "Who-" he cut himself short, laying eyes on the shadow-cloaked young man nestled in the shrubbery near the edge of the meadow, watching him with cheerful golden eyes. "You." He managed - not exactly an ideal greeting by the customs of the Courts, but one that expressed his true emotions nontheless.
It was not that he was unhappy to see the chocolate-pelted creature from his previous escapade in the Arma Mountains. It was just that he had rather not relive the tedious clambering and shivering winds that had almost cost him his life. He'd never considered what would happen to him should he pass in this life - but during the time of his climb, that question had been raised to him bright and glaring. He had not sought to answer it.
Still, the boy piqued his curiosity. Perhaps because Kaladin saw in him something that could have come to pass within himself, should he have been born of womb and flesh, not starlight and fury. I should be glad I skipped that stage, he thought, tilting his head in the direction of his gangly acquaintance. Still, a part of him wondered what it would have been like, to have only three years of memories behind him - not eight-hundred.
And yet, there were times like tonight where he still felt youthful - where the stillness and summer air made his muscles hum with activity. These were the instincts pushing him to skip across the meadow, to greet the almost-stranger with cheer and welcoming instead of cold analysis. But he suppressed both these things. I can learn from him, Kaladin realized. Learn what I could have been, what I should have been. The thought made his stomach roil in hatred towards Father once more. He shook his head. I can also learn how not to behave. There is benefit to everything.
The kid's next explanation made Kaladin's head shoot up, and his amberglass eyes flashed. Shaking his head with brief panic, he trotted across the clearing to thrust his face up against the boy's and growl, "Yes, say that louder, boy. Let the whole world know that we are after the relic that only one will be able to use." He tipped his head back, sizing up the larger stallion with cold calculation. "And that person will be me." Grinning wickedly now, he stood back, flicking his tail in an attempt to calm his twanging nerves.
The meadow about them was no longer quiet - it now rang with hushed notes of thinly-veiled tension. Kaladin's grin faded from something rather vicious to a more convincing imitation of a smile. "But I suppose you can come along, for now." You could prove to be useful, he added in his thoughts, following the pegasus' gaze to the peaks just piercing the skyline. Once again, he gave the adolescent grudging credit - he spoke like a fool, but his ideas were far from it. "I imagine it is a good a place to look as any." Kaladin conceded finally.
It was not that he was unhappy to see the chocolate-pelted creature from his previous escapade in the Arma Mountains. It was just that he had rather not relive the tedious clambering and shivering winds that had almost cost him his life. He'd never considered what would happen to him should he pass in this life - but during the time of his climb, that question had been raised to him bright and glaring. He had not sought to answer it.
Still, the boy piqued his curiosity. Perhaps because Kaladin saw in him something that could have come to pass within himself, should he have been born of womb and flesh, not starlight and fury. I should be glad I skipped that stage, he thought, tilting his head in the direction of his gangly acquaintance. Still, a part of him wondered what it would have been like, to have only three years of memories behind him - not eight-hundred.
And yet, there were times like tonight where he still felt youthful - where the stillness and summer air made his muscles hum with activity. These were the instincts pushing him to skip across the meadow, to greet the almost-stranger with cheer and welcoming instead of cold analysis. But he suppressed both these things. I can learn from him, Kaladin realized. Learn what I could have been, what I should have been. The thought made his stomach roil in hatred towards Father once more. He shook his head. I can also learn how not to behave. There is benefit to everything.
The kid's next explanation made Kaladin's head shoot up, and his amberglass eyes flashed. Shaking his head with brief panic, he trotted across the clearing to thrust his face up against the boy's and growl, "Yes, say that louder, boy. Let the whole world know that we are after the relic that only one will be able to use." He tipped his head back, sizing up the larger stallion with cold calculation. "And that person will be me." Grinning wickedly now, he stood back, flicking his tail in an attempt to calm his twanging nerves.
The meadow about them was no longer quiet - it now rang with hushed notes of thinly-veiled tension. Kaladin's grin faded from something rather vicious to a more convincing imitation of a smile. "But I suppose you can come along, for now." You could prove to be useful, he added in his thoughts, following the pegasus' gaze to the peaks just piercing the skyline. Once again, he gave the adolescent grudging credit - he spoke like a fool, but his ideas were far from it. "I imagine it is a good a place to look as any." Kaladin conceded finally.
