•• down by the riverside [Gersham]

[Lyris Na'aliye]

There was little snow left on the ground at the base of the mountains. Small, shrub-like plants clung to the sharp edges of the stone while brightly colored flowers sprouted cheerfully around the grassy areas. There were hardy trees that were just starting to sprout their buds, but Lyris knew that it would still take them a while to grow because of the cold. She herself was covered in a fuzzy layer of fur that had grown in for the winter. As the spring progressed and the mountains grew slightly warmer, she would shed most of the longer, thicker hair and be left with only a small amount of coarse hair designed to withstand the still-chilly temperatures of the Northern territories. Spring was her favorite time of year because it meant the re-birth of things long gone in the winter months. Foliage started to die off early up in the north because temperatures dropped so early in the autumn. Right now though… Lyris breathed in deeply, her nostrils flaring with an attempt to capture the smell of everything around her. A smile played at her lips. She was peaceful there, by the Headwaters that flowed by in a lesiurely fashion. Her richly purple coat stood out among the greens and browns of her surroundings, and her white mane contrasted with her body. Little strands of metallic gold glittered in the spring sunlight, causing some birds to flit down for a closer look at these shiny things. Ly snorted heavily in order to send the little avians away before wandering close to the water. She gazed down at her reflection and was met with a distorted view of startling lilac eyes and white teardrops destined to be a stationary testament to the sorrows of the land’s history.

With a sigh of pleasure she waded into the water, so used to the frigid temperatures of the rivers that she didn’t gasp at the sudden drop in heat. The water lapped at her hooves, dragging white and gold hairs along with it until they could go no further. For once her mind was clear and free of the worries that plagued a peace-loving herd. While they sought no conflict with the other herds, there were still threats from all sides. Trust was non-existant in Valsaine, and each species was at odds with the other. She had no desire to fight with any of the other herds, but felt no inclination to trust any of them. Lyris didn’t know what her King’s thoughts were on any of this. What the King thinks is more than you are priveledged to receive, Lyris. She knew this and didn’t question it. A common mare like herself would be more than honored to receive any comment at all from the King, but she hardly expected this to happen. She had never talked to him before; she knew where her boundaries were, and dared not cross them before being invited to do so. She was not part of the army, nor was she anything special among the other mares. No, she was entitled to food, water, shelter and protection, but certainly nothing more than that. She only wished to be of help when she was called on.

[Gersham Disnami]

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[atrb=background,http://i1233.photobucket.com/albums/ff393/tempykdog/kenbg.png] How many years had it been, he wondered, since the last drop up blood was shed upon the white snow? He didn't know the answer, though he felt like he should. Was it wrong, that the years since his father's passing had been something of a blur? His mother ruled, at first, taking on the weight of the herd. But it was obvious she was not the one to carry the legacy of the North forward - it was her son, Aphystri's son, that was the true ruler. Gersham had been in power for a year or two, having been thrust into the position at a relatively young age. Was he unhappy about it? No, of course not. He loved his herd, and he couldn't see the protection of it falling to anyone else. He'd never had any other path set before him in life; this was his destiny, after all. But it could be a heavy burden, and he sometimes felt the need to escape, the itch inside of him urging him to run freely. He wouldn't, but the drive sometimes saw him taking the trails down the mountain. Sometimes he stopped at the headwaters, sometimes he traveled along the Vaerult for a time. It was a small act of rebellion against the responsibility he'd had no choice but to take up. This time was one where he stopped at the headwaters, and his minty eyes settled on the tranquil scene before him. With the receding of winter, grasses were beginning to pop up along the bank, reaching high for the sun despite the dusting of snow still on the ground. It could be taken in a very inspirational way, he supposed; those stalks of green were the herds rising from the ashes of war. But that was before his time, and though he'd lost family he'd never known, it was sometimes hard for him to hold a personal attachment to the events. He could feel the guilt, though - he'd been taught from a young age that it was his grandfather's fault that all of this had happened. His bloodline was to blame for the pain and suffering. "Why?" a young Gersham had asked, fire and curiosity in his gaze. It was a time before his father had passed away. "Everyone fought, who's to say it wouldn't have happened even if grandfather hadn't started it?" His father hadn't liked that much, but it was still a valid point in Gersham's mind. A point that kept him from truly succumbing to the pain of so much death. He frowned. So much for taking a peaceful break. Shaking his head, thick white tresses sliding upon his neck, he stepped forward again, moving around some rocky fixtures in order to get closer to the water. Warmth seeped into his pelt from the sun despite the still-cold temperature, and he closed his eyes to bask for a moment. Then he heard a noise. Instantly his eyes opened, wary of trouble on the southern border. It took only a heartbeat for him to dispel that worry as he caught sight of the mare wading into the water. Her stocky build and thick coat gave away her Dreika bloodline, as well as the deep, rich color of her coat. He winced as he looked at the water. While it was no longer winter, the water was cold pretty much all year long as it was fed from streams at higher elevations. He rarely went in the water himself due to that fact. However, his interest was effectively piqued, and he strode toward the water, his long, easy stride getting him to the bank quickly. He knew the mare, though it took him a moment to pick the name out of his memory. Lyris, a mare of his herd that he'd seen but never really spoken to. He cleared his throat, not wanting to startle her if she hadn't already noticed him. "That has to be cold," he said in his deep voice, slight interest creeping into his voice. Slight interest was about the best he could do these days; the full-out curiosity of his childhood was all but gone now. That's what responsibility could do to a young equine. ------------------------------ Notes; Sorry about the wait Dx Credits; Horse - horsecrazycool.deviantart.com BG - alzirrswanheartstock.deviantart.com Manip - xkenren (me) Table - Tempy

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