Welcome to Gaia! ::

He had made a habit of wandering. Where he went wasn't completely random though. The prints of small creatures embedded in the muddy ground acted as secret trails for him to follow. The little paths had led him straight out of the two-legger village, away from his mother and father and into the wild. He'd always imagined what it would be like as a foal, living free to do what he pleased but he hadn't really thought of going through with it until he was already away. One day he'd followed those paths and hadn't looked back till he was on the outskirts of the village. He could have gone back then but instead he decided to follow the trails and make a life of his own. It was a lot tougher than he'd imagined.

The only other thing he followed was his stomach. He found himself stopping for food constantly, how hard he had to work to get enough. The trails had led him to a clearing that day, he was happy to notice that the snow had melted enough to make easy access of the grass. In the snow he noticed the hoof prints of another Soquili, a draft he guessed by the size of the prints. He sniffed at them, his nose dipping into the snow. The sent had a vague familiarity to it but he couldn't place it as any horse he'd met before. Raising his head to look around, he thought he spotted movement on the other side of the clearing. Walking along in the hoof prints he made his way toward the figure.

He placed his hoofs inside each hoof print, carefully matching them stride for stride. He noticed that he fit almost perfectly into the groove. This other male must be a similar size and weight to him he thought. Even his long feathering dragged along in premade striations in the mud. He flicked his ears up at the sound. He had been distracted by the prints again and almost forgotten that this Soquili he was following was right in front of him. He lifted his head slowly, "Hello," he offered in return. His voice was gruff but slightly higher than the other males. He breathed in deeply through his nose taking in the males sent. It seemed that he was displeased by what he smelled because he huffed out his breath fast through his nose blowing his bangs up in the air.

"Alban," he said slowly in a long drolling voice. "Who are you?" He kept his eyes on the male, still unsure what to make of him.

Alban looked around him, a strange look in his eye as if he was just first noticing his surroundings. "I suppose it is getting warmer." He shook his head in an attempt to clear the hair from his face. "What are you doing in these parts.... Shilo was it?" He drew his head up to it's full hight, making himself look more powerful. He wondered if this other male would claim the territory as his own.

He grunted as his forelock fell back into his face. Disgruntled he huffed and tried to ignore it. "I don't particularly live around anywhere." He wasn't much of a macho character himself unless challenged. Unless there was a mare involved of course. He'd always felt it was his duty to protect females. Maybe it was something passed on from his mother.

He snuffed at the air. Yes he thought, that was a familiar sent indeed. "Have we met before?" He asked with an air of caution in his voice. "I don't think I've laid eyes on you before but yet..."

For a moment it looked as though Alban had had a small stroke. His face was blank and he just stared at the other male for what might have been several minutes but he was completely unaware of time. Finally his senses came back to him and he started to stammer "What... what name was that? I think I miss heard you."

He coughed, trying to clear his throat and his mind. "Artaius...." He whispered first to himself and then louder for the male. "That was my fathers name too...." He shook his head, "Couldn't be the same... I was born in the two-legger camp..." His eyes flicked back and forth over Shilo again, trying to solve this mystery. "Maybe it's possible. I just..." He paused, "I don't understand."

The thought of it made him feel slightly queasy. His mother and father he loved dearly but whom he'd left behind. He'd always idealized his father but how would this possible revelation change all that. "My father is a similar color to me, but his mane is dark. I have my mother's mane." He tilts his head to the side. "You don't really look like my father, maybe your markings but you're all the wrong color." He tried to find the humor in the situation but it all seemed too serious to him.