[PRP] Ill Met By Moonlight (Maeryn and Milosh)

[Uta]

There was something out there, something close, and Milosh felt ill at ease. There was something heavy in the air, something that made the beast of a kalona uncomfortable. There was something off about this place, something that drew Milosh forward, despite his great misgivings. There was truth out there. . . . and it was a truth the stallion feared. As luck would have it, the spirit of Kalona had brought him to this place, though he knew not the reason, and feared the truth of it. A stallion had seemed to recall seeing a mare of Usha's markings linger in these lands, though it had been some time ago. . . . Quite some time ago. The only reason the stranger recalled was because he'd almost lost an eye to that whip-like tail, and his advances had been thoroughly rebuffed.

. . . leave it to Usha to make friends with the locals.

Still, a small part of Milosh held on to doubt. Surely that stallion could have been mistaken -- there might very well have been a number of other mares with those particular markings and colorst. Surely, that stallion couldn't recall a mare from so long ago. . . And yet, from what Milosh had come to understand, pure kalona kind were rare in these parts. They were rare everywhere, seemingly, but with the diluted blood so prominent in the Kawani, finding a pure mare was a bit of a tricky thing. At least, that's what the stallion had said.

So it was, Milosh knew he held onto that doubt as a coward might. . .a shield from the sudden worry of what he might find in these lands. He was a strong stallion. . . . but there were some pain that cut deep. So it was, the braided stallion trudged his way through the foliage, pausing now and then to listen, to search for any sort of marking, any sort of clue, and to breathe in the scent of the land. What he found was . . . not Usha . . . but. . . . a ghost of a fragrance that almost seemed familiar. Had he just missed her? Had she been there? It . . . . It wasn't quite right, and it was very weak. Still, the stallion traced it, little caring that he must look a fool picking his way through the brush and bramble like some hound.

He was on a mission, and he would not stop until Usha was taken under his wing, and they might return to the snowy north. He was not the wisest of stallions, but he was certainly stubborn. So it was, the male made his way closer to that cave. He knew there was another kalona nearby -- Maeryn's scent was more than obvious -- but he brushed it aside. Whoever was out there was of little consequence to him. They were not his focus, that . . . that minute hope was everything to him. Let some beast attack him, let some mare try to drive him off -- and above all else -- let it be Usha to scold him , to scar him, to snarl at him like she used to do when she thought him some fool.

It would be welcome.

It would be, above all else, a true miracle. Surely the great spirit Kalona might grant him this boon?  

[Uta]

Milosh was actually surprised when a large kalona mare suddenly appeared before him, and it caused him to almost start. His ears instantly pricked, wings twitching into what would have been a full on flare had he not better control of his movements. It took a lot to startle the beast, but Maeryn certainly had done so! While her scent was vaguely familiar -- this was the other kalona scent he'd been mostly disregarding! -- she was still a kalona, and unlike any he'd seen. Though she was small, she was larger than some of the Kawani he'd witnessed, and there was a power and presence to her that could not be denied. Whoever she was. . . she was clearly of some great importance...or at least, she held herself in a way in which he'd never seen before.

Ah, but the surprise that had gripped him at her very shadowed approach, was trumped by the doom within her words. So it was, this mare was a chosen of Kalona? That must be where the power came from, on top of a natural experience and wisdom. The stallion said nothing as the weight of her words settled upon his shoulders like a heavy weight and chain. He knew what she was going to say before she said them, knew that if he agreed to hear this news, his journey would come to its end. There could be no other reason to stop him. . . . though how she knew his cause, he couldn't guess, nor was it important. He did not dare insult Kalona or this mare . .. but for hair of a moment, he truly considered walking the path of denial. Ah,but he was no coward, and all that regret already began to bubble up to the surface. The hope that Usha might live already began to fade, and it left a sickening hollowness in his bones that could easily have taken him down. But . . . he would not crumble here or in front of any eyes.

Giving a respectful nod, wings resettling tight against his side, the stallion stared solemnly down at Maeryn. "Speak then, though I might guess at what message Kalona brings." His gaze hardened, just as his muscles did, the stallion taught with anxiety renewed. There would be no hope. . . and he would soon be hit with a message he had dreaded most. Still, he kept his pride, and his body language subtle. Though he was certain this mare might see, younger, blinder, fools might not.
 

[Uta]

The pain that gripped the stallion’s heart was almost surprising, given he had prepared himself for months for the worst. He had known, deep down, past his denial, that Usha was more than likely dead – of disease, of mishap, of infection, of an attack. When she had not returned within the expected season, he had known. It had been hope that had lead him to wait, denial that had determined he give her time, but ultimately, he knew she had been lost to him. What a fool he’d been all those years, playing some game of wit, knowing full well what they had both wanted. One did not simply rush into a romance, especially given their different upbringings. Pride, for all the good it had done Milosh, had ultimately kept him from Usha’s side on her journey back to the Kawani. Perhaps, if he had gone with her, been with her, he could have done something, could have helped, could have fought for her and found a healer. Instead, she had died. . . . Died, giving birth to his foal. To their foal. To this mare’s foal. That was a surprise to Milosh. . . for while Usha and he had dabbled before, no foal had ever made itself known.

He had been a fool. Usha had always been a small mare, but those of the Kawani were of delicate bones. This strange mare, despite being large and quite formidable, despite having an aura about her that he’d never felt before, was not as massive as some of those in the North. That did not make her any less worthy an opponent, or any weaker, not at all! Only a fool would think that size dictated the outcome of a battle, or that those of smaller bones and girth were to be taken lightly. One should never underestimate their opponent, and those in the Kawani were no exception. Ah, but Usha. . . The regret he felt over the confirmation within Maeryn’s words were only slightly lessened by the surprise that he was a father. . or at least a donor in the life of another. Usha might yet live on in this unknown stallion, this son he had not known. Though he stayed quiet, trying to compose the sting of feeling that ravaged him, attempting to master his emotions, he did allow his tail to give a little swish in acknowledgement. “Then she lives on, if not through body, than in spirit and blood.” He was not a poetic stallion, but the knowledge that there was another out there – some stranger name Keiran – that carried on in Usha’s stead was comforting. How sorry he was to have lost the mare, and to have gone all this time without knowledge of a son. . .

But there would be time to grieve when prying eyes were not so near. So it was, he gave a small, respectful, dip of his head. “I thank you for such tidings, and thank Kalona for your discovery.” He did not have a right to call this other his son, for he had certainly been no father. Had he known Usha had been with foal he would have never let her go, and doubted she would have made the journey. “You saved him, where I could not, Kalona help me. . . and for that, you have my endless gratitude.” His words were sincere, as sincere as the stoic stallion could be. He was not often one overcome by any great feeling, but this mare had taken on a responsibility she shouldn’t have been pressured to take. This foal was not of her blood, nor of her kin, and some might have taken him for prey or at least an easy kill. But this black and red mare was of different breeding. . . “I would wish to seek him out, if you are agreeable.” What might he look like? What might he be like? Keiran: a strong name, to be sure, though foreign all the same. “I have no claim over him as my son, but I would wish to see with my own eyes.” If only to see what what future possibility had been lost to him, to see what could have been, and to have a memory to hold onto during his lonely trek back north.

This arctic winter would be particularly cold.

 

[Uta]

Miss Cherie

The large kalona considered the mare's words. So his son was not near these lands, and was out . . . seeking a mate. The large kalona gave a swish of his tail, the tentacles writhing a bit as he truly consdered the mare's news. Had he been gone and away so long that his son was already seeking out a mare? Had time passed so swiftly?

On the one hoof, it was good news that the stallion was mature, and ready to start a life all his own. Why shouldn't a strapping young kalona seek to strengthen the line and start their own family? Why shouldn't his son find pure blood? Rumor had it that the Kawani was weak when it came to strong kalona lines. . . too many crossed with lesser's. On the other hoof, Milosh was disgruntled that with Keiran gone, any last ties to Usha were dashed. He wanted to meet this stranger, to see him with his own eyes, to confirm what Maeryn was sure of. He wanted to see, just once, the face of his only progeny, and at the very least, return back to the winter wastelands with news. Maybe if he saw his son, the burden of his heart would be lessened on the long journey back.

Part of Milosh had to wonder if the stallion would even want to see him. It wasn't as if he'd had any knowledge of Keiran, or impact on his growth and development. He was not truly his father, even if it was his blood that ran through the others veins. Milosh wasn't going to to let Keiran's absence deter him though. . . He was here now. It would be less time lingering until the stallion returned than it would take to go back to the northlands, and return at a later date.

"Old enough to take on a mate, eh?" He arched a brow but his smile was understanding, and perhaps a bit pleased. One did have their duty to the blood, after all. "I've failed at being a father, but shall hope he is far more successful in his search. It sounds to me that he's had sound training, and a great mother and teacher." If nothing else, his son seemed to be doing well. Truly, he was grateful that the ebony mare before him had invested in him. Milosh was well aware that not every kalona was so generous. It was a competitive world out there, and his son could have easily become another's snack.

With a thoughtful tit of his head, Milosh gave a small grunt. "Well then. If he is not yet returned, then I am in no rush to return to the Northlands. Kalona seems to want me to linger in the Kawani, and I shall not question his will." He knew not when his son might return, but what was one more kalona in a land full of crossbreeds and tainted blood?

The lands could use a real kalona lurking . . . particularly if the skinwalker problem was as prevalent as was rumored. "I will not get in your way, or his, I assure you. I simply come from a land far from here, and would at least like to meet him before I return." He would not claim the title as father, for Maeryn had earned such a right to be the real parent. He was no threat. . .but he would not leave until he saw him in the flesh.