'New' was not any huge rarity among noulicorns. Things were always changing: in part due to the nature of existence. Theirs was not a stagnant world. Creatures came and went. Time passed. This was typical of any world. What Aldwyn expected was atypical was the abilities that were bestowed upon them. Their magic accelerated the rate at which things changed by at least a hundred-fold. Ascendeds with a practiced grip on their gifts could resurrect creatures that were once lost and add them to their community. Seeds that had been hibernating for decades- centuries, maybe- could be brought forth to bloom with just a twinge of gentle encouragement from their magic.
In some places, a species lost to time could be permanent, but not in Homewood.
Aldwyn could practically smell anticipation on the breeze. he could almost feel the dull hum of impatience as it reverberated through the air. Bryone had gone to investigate Homewood's gossip well before Aldwyn had, and the foal was familiar enough with their home that Aldwyn didn't mind letting him mingle with their kind on his own for short periods of time.
He didn't mind waiting until Bryone returned to learn what made the air buzz with excitement. He was sure his foal would love to be the one to share.
But that wasn't what happened.
Even if Aldwyn was content to wait (he was a patient buck, usually), the hum resonated with him. It thrummed in his very soul, delicate and tantalizing. There was no single word to describe the sensation, but it tugged on him with the faintest pressure. Aldwyn rose from where he waited and rested outside his den. His gaze turned toward where he was sure Bryone would return from, and he gave the air a sniff. Nothing current carried toward him on the breeze, so he had to assume his foal wasn't making his way back, yet.
But Aldwyn felt a stir of unfamiliar impatience. He would go and see for himself. The talk around Homewood must be abuzz with new findings. The tug on his conscious thought, though, did not lead him toward others. Aldwyn's hooves carried him away from where most made their dens. Leaves and brambles crunched softly beneath him with every step, and there was a playful flutter to the trees, today.
Their world was pleased, it seemed.
He hopped a small stream, crossed a rock trail and soon found himself in what was perhaps the densest foliage. There were no visible signs of life, but it smelled as though someone called this lush thicket their den. There were no trinkets nor paths tamped down. Just a scent in the air.
But in a small cluster, outside the brush too dense for Aldwyn to traipse, there was a peculiar star-shaped herb. It was unfamiliar to him. It looked unfamiliar, it smelled unfamiliar, and when he dared to experimentally rub his teeth against its leaves, he thought it didn't quite taste familiar, either. But the sensation of excitement hung heavy in the air, brimming with the energy of a sun just about to rise. he could feel it in his core.
Aldwyn blinked in confusion at the small plant before an overwhelming sense of being pleased took hold of him.
He had only just received his gift. The sensations it brought him were still new and foreign. But this plant was also new and foreign. It buzzed to him in its delight to exist, and Aldwyn, having been newly acquainted with his affinity for botany, felt it. What an intriguing thing. His tail swished. His ears flicked up and alert.
A part of him wanted to investigate this den. He wanted to see who may choose to live so far from everyone else, who have brought this plant here, perhaps who had reawakened it. ...But a part of him expected that this noulicorn was making a conscious decision to keep its distance, whether out of necessity or preference. His being here at all was likely unwanted, never mind if he tried to snoop.
Aldwyn made to turn away. It was enough just to know what was here.
Or was it?
Before he could caution himself against it, Aldwyn tipped down to take the stem of a plant between his teeth and delicately pluck it from the earth by the root. It was only one of the cluster, and perhaps he would be able to make more of them sprout if he took this one as a starting culture. If nothing else, the experiment would be worth it.
Though, admittedly, he certainly didn't want to be caught with the evidence in his mouth of doing something he sorely expected was unwelcome. With head held high, he quickly trotted back the way he'd come, breaking into more of a gallop after he crossed the stone path. Entirely ethical or not, Aldwyn was sure his foal would at least be amused.
And it was a new story to share. A small one, yes, but it was a fun one, as well.
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