History Repeats

You could still be what you want to — (what you said you were when I met you) Korri traversed the Portal on foot today. His wings folded loosely against his sides, he picked his way past and under snowbound trees. He no longer shied at the shadows or the strange lights playing in the depths of the forest around him. The Portal had yet to harm him; he ventured here only out of curiosity, to find any more strangers who might want a home in Halyven. To serve his crowns and prove his worth. To alleviate his boredom, too, and distract himself from the pressing absence of his raven. Two seasons, now. She was so long lost to him. He no longer made a pretense of looking for her here. Only let his eyes drift from tree to tree, his gaze soft and resigned. Did his own gods hate him so much they had cast him out alone? Or was the Rift so cruel it had taken her from him? For no reason? He had done all he could in this land, had been kind to it even if kindness was not in his nature, but here he was. He was interrupted from his musings by a flash of color off to his right. Not something tricky — something real. Korri paused, his head lifting, and blinked. A horse — just a horse. No horn, no wings, large (of course) but blandly orange. Almost certainly not a native. Turning, Korri headed in the stranger's direction. His voice preceded him: "Hello, there." His light tone was more subdued than it often was, friendly but not bright. Not brilliant. He meant to approach only until they stood within conversing distance. Then he paused, his ears curiously up. "I'm Korri," he said. A small nod of his head. "A scout with the Kingdom of Halyven. Are you lost?" Most he found in this forest were, but this stranger appeared perhaps a bit more composed than Baal had been. Perhaps she was merely older. Korri ❤

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