Checkpoint: Alpha

R I X E N Otem, who appeared just as perplexed as I was at my own question, turned to her necklace. I had seen its magic once before, when I first met the ram-horned mare by the decaying spires in the east. Thinking back to the event, I remembered the oak leaf's magic worked in such a way where the charm was able to respond when Otem called upon it. It was the charm - and not Otem - who had answered my questions about the Rift and Kisamoa, though that was not to say that I hadn't immensely appreciated her help. Although, if I recalled correctly, the voice that had first replied with a shrill sound that made me wince, harsh and corrosive in tone, before transforming into the gentle and knowing voice of worldly wisdom. Such an item must come in handy in times like this. How nice it must be to have a charm to consult for guidance. I would certainly like to have one like it, if I could. As Otem awaited an response, I wondered if the same, sardonic voice would answer the girl this time. Sure enough, the same thing happened as before. The burgundy mare’s inquiry was met with an angry caterwaul that pierced the quiet air. Well, it would be nice to have a charm like Otem’s, if I didn’t have to endure the same sort of scolding lecture. Hopefully that was not a quality universal among all talking charms. Poor Otem. I felt bad, seeing her wince, presumably embarrassed at the acerbic voice. Whoever spoke from the necklace could not lash out with flying hooves, but her words packed a powerful punch. It was a sound that was very unpleasant to my ears, and certainly much worse for her as the primary target of the charm's scathing words. As Otem looked around at us apologetically, I met her gold-and-burgundy gaze with a sympathetic look.  Then the mocking laughter stopped. Like I had witnessed before, it was replaced by a gentler, more rational voice. Indeed, it was the same voice that first told me of the Rift and of Kisamoa. Apparently Kiada knew who the voice belonged to, for I heard her breathe the name as one voice faded away and another began. Of course, it was not a title I knew. I breathed a sigh of relief at the conclusion of the screeching that reverberated in my ears like a clap of thunder, and relief that Otem’s humiliation was over. Listening to what knowledge the charm now had to offer, I realized that she brought up good points, and nodded along in agreement. What was the purpose of a herd if we did not all agree to work together and help each other? The formation of a herd was set upon a foundation of trust, loyalty, and commitment to one another. If we could not agree to these things to begin with, well, we might as well forget about half-moon meetings or emergencies altogether. Not that we could call ourselves a herd yet, but we certainly could not become one (assuming that was the direction that we were headed) without a pledge to one another first. The voice of the oaken charm was right.  When at last the voice said no more, Otem turned to us. Adhering to the guidance of the voice, she asked for our allegiance. Slowly, horses began to pledge their commitment. I had not said much since asking about what we should do in the event of an emergency, instead watching and listening whilst trying to think of what to make of it all. Without a doubt, I wanted to be a part of this alliance, or whatever we were to refer to ourselves as if not a herd. Following the others’ lead, I did not hesitate in my answer. As soon as Waker was finished speaking, I began. "Whenever and wherever you need me, I will come to your aid. You have my word." My voice was unwavering, with a dip of my antlers in Otem’s direction. Though my emerald gaze fell upon Otem, the words I spoke were intended for all of the horses who stood in the circle. Something in my gut told me that this was what I should do. I should trust these horses, and in turn they could trust me. For how could they rely upon me, if I did not make myself vulnerable and rely upon them, too? This was the right choice - for me and for all of us. I was sure of it. The life of a vagabond was growing old. In fact, such a life was one I no longer desired. It didn't suit me. It was time for change. An optimistic smile crept across my velvet lips.  "Talk." they heard me singing and they told me to stop quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock

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