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"Ah..."

Like Aphrodite rising out of the sea, Amary slowly pulled herself out of the steaming waters of the hotspring. She always loved bathing in the warm waters it provided, and the minerals therein gave her coat extra gloss and shine. Granted, it wasn't like she needed it or anything, but whatever gave that extra edge, right?

Water ran over the mare's body, dripping from her mane and wings to trail down her legs and tail and pool around her hooves, blown gently into ripples by the late afternoon breeze. That same breeze toyed with the damp curls around Amary's brow, already starting to flutter their way back into their usual attractive shape, and ran smoothly over her wings, ruffling the feathers into only mild dampness.

And throughout it all, Amary didn't so much as shake her head. Rapid movement of damp hair could result in strange looking styles, after all, and she much preferred the subtly coy arrangement of the forelock. There was nothing quite like the reaction of males to a slowly raised and rapidly lowered eye from behind a veil of hair, as her mother had taught her at a young age.

Her mother had been a smart cookie.

Laughing, Amary tested her hair's dampness by tilting her head to the side and carefully lipping at the strands before giving her mane a light toss. Perfect, as usual, ready to go forth and entrance.

Stepping across the rocky ground that bordered the spring, Amary made her way over to the small shrub where she'd stuck her rose and the silver chain she wore about her neck. Both were special to her; the chain was a gift from her father, and the rose, a habit adopted from his example. Consequently, the idea of losing either was less than desirable to the mare. And why would she get rid of her lucky charms, anyway?

As she stepped up beside the shrub, Amary lowered her muzzle to gentle nuzzle the flower and chain, then tenderly scooped up the rose to tuck into her mane at her ear. She didn't have to look at her reflection in the water to know that it was perfect; as her father had always told her, somethings could be FELT.

That in mind, she picked up the chain. But rather than put it on right away, she lifted up up above her head, the silver links sparkling in the light of the sinking sun. This chain had been a present from her father, and for that reason it was very special to her.

It was her father who had first told her how lovely she was, after all; her father who complimented her and taught her the value of proper grooming and always setting forth on the smartest foof, even though Guilian was ALSO the first to admit that she didn't need it. Luca, her mother, was one of those mares that could entrance with a mere tilt of her head, a living, breathing invitation to make love. According to both of her parents, Amary had inherited that quality...but that didn't mean that she couldn't try to up the odds even more.

And she did SO love stallions. Growing up as the daughter of Guilian and Luca, Amary had been aware of hormones and hormonal actions from a very young age. She'd been around to witness her parents' flirting and come-ons, scuttled away with Leon after getting a meaningful look from one ot the other of her parents; her mother had explained her father's absences to the children very honestly, and Amary had accepted sex as a fact of life ever since she was a foal.

She herself wouldn't say she was promiscuous. To even suggest such would imply that she had a problem with her lifestyle, and she would be the first to laugh off such an idea. There was just something...exciting about stallions; how strong they were, how handsome, how powerful. Just seeing a handsome stallion shake his mane would set Amary's heart fluttering, and something as simple as a smile could guarantee said stallion an evening of Amary's company, if he were so inclined.

Her father loved the thrill of the hunt, her older siblings preferred to take their time and keep their fraternizing to a minimum, but not Amary. Love was something physical, born of the physical. People could talk of love, but if you didn't lust after someone, you'd never get to do the wild thing now, would you? And THAT just sounded like a sad existance.

Glancing around with a pronounced frown, Mardi took in the sights and sounds of the lakeshore. She could make out a few teepees whichever way she looked, indicating to the colorful mare that if nothing else there were two-leggers about; beyond that, the occassional two legger or two-legger foal as they went about from teepee to lakeshore to woods. Lots of two-leggers, alrighty.

Unfortunately, there was virtually no sign that there were any Soquilis around. Virtually every way she turned, all that she could see was two-leggers; two-leggers, two legger domiciles, two-legger life signs. She was as fond of the creatures as any Soquili, but for a mare that had hoped to find a crowd of Soquili, this sight was a major drag.

"Great. At this rate, I'm not going to be able to have a suitably sized party until I'm DEAD, and even then it'll depend on the place I drop!"

Sighing, the brightly colored mare pawed at the ground in annoyance, her expression pronouncedly sour. However, after only a few moments she was looking about again, the frown replaced with her usual cheery smile.

As she saw it, she had a few options. The first was to stay here and pout; while this option certainly had merit, she'd be the first to admit that it would be a waste of time. Even if there was a group of Soquilis nearby, why would they want to seek out a mare that looked as dejected as that? No thanks, she'd much rather do something productive with her time.

Another option was to stay dejected and look around. A better plan than sulking in one place, but if one started out on a journey or hunt with a pessimistic outlook they were much less likely to succeed. She wanted to succeed, therefore she'd rather not handicap herself so early.

Therefore, she'd go with the third option: Stay positive and start exploring. She was at least experienced at exploring, after her travels thus far, so it wasn't like she was entering the unknown. If anything, this place would provide a nice change of pace; she'd seen rivers so far, but no lakes; and she'd never seen so many two-leggers before! Hopefully they were the nice sort that liked Soquili; she'd heard that that type of two-legger could often be counted on to supply snacks, and she would love an apple. The ones out in the wild were starting to die off, and they were her favorite fruit!

Resigning herself to a longer hunt, Mardi was nevertheless optimistic as she started off. Soquilis were social creatures, herd mentalities and all that whatnot; as long as she kept hunting, she was bound to discover a group sooner or later!

In the depths of the forest, where the trees grew thick and close, spring and summer could both pass without the forest floor seeing any sunlight at all. In some places, valiant attempts by isolated beams of light would occassionally make headway, but as a rule those parts of the woods were entirely dark. Nothing but moss grew on the ground; there was no underbrush to tangle in the legs of the unwary traveler. If one could handle the gloom, then to them was opened a world of peace and serenity.

However, with the onset of fall the leafy blockade was thinning. Leaves were turning colors, becoming thin, even falling; consequently great beams of light were now able to penetrate all the way down to the forest floor.

With the onset of the dawn, one such beam of light was doing just that, streaming through the partially bare branches to flood the clearing below with brightness, much to the chagrin of at least one of the clearing's occupants.

Blinking at the sudden onslaught of light, Guilian's first reaction was to try and avoid it. Shifting sideways, he buried his muzzle deep in the purple curls of his companion's mane and shaded both of their faces with one of his wings. However, that failed to pacify the stallion for long, as holding the pose took more effort than he was willing to put out, especially considering that the point was so that he could get more sleep. With that and a sigh, the stallion finally lowered his wing and, with one last lingering nuzzle to the delightfully arched neck at hand, shifted from that beautifl state of half-wakefulness to that of full consciousness.

As he did so, Guilian took a moment to glance around the clearing, blinking a bit as the presence of the sunlight finally clicked. Sunlight dow here...that wasn't something that he saw that much.

Chuckling, he carefully eased himself to his feet, not wishing to wake Luca as she lay curled against him. This was actually no easy task, considering that their legs were tangled and she was actually lying on one of his wings, but he was good at managing this sort of situation. It was a gift.

Having finally made his way to his feet, though, the stallion gave a soft sigh and flexed first his wings, then his legs, then finally tossed his curls as the finishing touch to his morning routine. He didn't need a pool to look at to know he looked perfect; at this point in his life, he could FEEL that he looked perfect. And speaking of perfect...

Tilting his head to the side, Guilian turned to look at the slumbering mare, a thoughtful look on his face. Though he'd spent many nights with Luca, it was a rare occassion that he awoke before her; it was almost as if she didn't like to be seen sleeping.

Granted, he had no idea why that would be. She was a gorgeous mare, after all, and that extended into sleep as well as consciousness. Her purple curls fell becomingly about her muzzle and neck, her lithe body lay curled as though it were still pressed against his, and on her face was an expression of dreamy contentment that he was very familiar with.

To another Soquili coming upon the picture, it might have seemed a touching little tableau of happy matehood, 'one of those things' that mates did. But just because Guilian engaged in a few mannerisms didn't mean that he was in any way a mate, and he and Luca would be the first to chuckle at that idea.

That he loved her wasn't even a question. She was one of his most stable and devoted lovers, the only one thus far that he'd even been TEMPTED to stay with longer than a day or two; she always had exciting ideas, was a fabulous conversationalist, and knew how to read him as though he were a book. Beyond that, she was the mother to two of his children, and a more delightful mother anyone else would be hardpressed to find. She adored their children, raised them well, allowed HIM his rovings without so much as raising an eyebrow, and still welcomed him back as her lover as soon as she could...yes, he loved this oh so amenable mare.

But did that mean that he loved her exclusively? Hardly. Nor did he harbor such foolish delusions as to expect that she was loyal to him. They had their own arrangement, and it suited them both. They would meet, spend time together, and then go their seperate ways, content in the knowledge that everything was going well.

All of these things flitted through Guilian's mind as he watched the mare, his dark eyes soft as he watched her sigh and shift slightly in her sleep. Such a delightful creature she was...but if he were to stay here much longer he'd be doing a disservice to the other delightful creatures out there. It was morning, he was awake, and he had things to do; it was about time he checked in with Tony again, for one thing, and for another...well, he'd just have to see what the day brought.

His lips curving up in a sensual smile, Guilian walked softly up to Luca's side, bending low to brush his muzzle along hers, ending with a light nuzzle at the temple and a low murmur. "Well, it has been a pleasure, Luca-Chica; until such a time as we meet again, take care of yourself." With that, he rose to his feet and started off, positive as he moved away that a smug smile had curved the mare's face as he spoke.

They weren't lifemates, not by a long shot...but there were all sorts of definitions of love.

Closing his eyes, Guilian tilted his head so that one cheek rested lightly against the white bark of a birch tree, one of many birches in this light and airy part of the woods. Though in many ways ghostly and disconcerting, their white, bright coloration always created the illusion of light openness to the otherwise congested woodlands, allowing Guilian to feel unrestricted and free while at the same time granting solitude. And here, now, in this one place, it truly was solitude. Unlike his more typical haunts, this thicket was his and his alone, never used for trysting, socializing, or anything beyond pure isolation.

He rather liked it that way.

Though he adored companionship in all its incarnations, there were times when even he desired to be alone; the gradually increasing strength of that desire was, ironically, part of the reason he was out there now, left to his own thoughts without interuption.

As his thoughts flitted over that thought, Guilian couldn't help the slightly wry twist of his lips as he considered his use of the word 'interruption.' What would he be interrupting, and what would classify it as an interruption? After all, he himself was hardly the type to worry about schedules or order, preferring instead to let himself live as a creature of whim, of desire. He was a simple stallion when it was all said and sifted, a stallion who had no grand ambitions or master plans beyond enjoying his time while he could. But as of late, it seemed that his definition of enjoyment was changing.

It wasn't that he didn't still adore the mares; he still loved to turn heads, still loved to see beauty captivated by his own, still loved the rush that came with pure physical passion. But no longer was that the only love he craved, the ultimate goal, the be-all and end all. There was life, love, and even enjoyment beyond sex...and that was an amazing thing.

If asked, he wouldn't be able to point to one single occurance or experience that has led to this new revelation. Most likely, it was a composite, something grown out of a long, social, and highly energetic life. Small things, like his old friendship with Ariston, his bond with Luca, his adoration of his children. Each an important element of his life, each, perhaps, at least peartly responsible for THIS.

But what was 'this', anyway?

"Ah, what is 'this,' indeed?" Chuckling, Guilian straightened up, moving away from the tree and starting a slow pace about the glade. "Perhaps 'this' is an example of enlightenment, of moral growth, of newfound maturity; or perhaps it is merely a sign that I am growing old."

If Ariston were there, then Guilian knew what would happen. Either Ariston would make some sort of alarmed comment, crack a joke, or some combination of both; as the two stallions were of an age, if Guilian was old, then it stood to reason that Ariston was also old. There was truth to the old adage that one was only as old as they felt, however, and Guilian doubted he'd ever feel old. If Luca were with him to hear him even suggest such, she'd laugh in his face, then coyly tease him about youthful vigor or how he was thinking too much. And if his kids were....

Tilting his head to the side, Guilian contemplated the various reactions with a fond smile. They were such a diverse bunch, his children, and all thoroughly adored by a truly doting father. He had always maintained that there was more to family than the cliched picture of father, mother, and bounching baby foals; the fact that he had eight children by three mares was evidence enough of that. But there was no reason that even a family as extended as his couldn't be close...or their own version of close, anyway.

Ah, it was good that he had time to think about things; these days, even naming all the names of his kids took a lot of time!