Edana's Wait

[G I A C]

It had grown altogether much too dull in the woods that this stallion called home, and so he had ventured forth at last from his forested domain and out into the wider world. The appaloosa's dappled pelt blended in perfectly among the gnarled trunks and fluttering leaves that he called home, but once he had left the relative sanctuary of Viracocha's Wood, he became aware that he was exposed. Still, this island didn't have many natural predators to worry about, and Vulture was an arrogant horse. He didn't really believe that there was anyone out there who had the capability to hurt him, particularly not without Vulture giving back as good as he got.

It was with quite a confident air, then, that the black and white speckled stallion approached the centre of the isle that he called home, the mighty cone of the Volcano silhouetted up above him against a blue and relatively cloudless sky. No sooner had he reached the foot of the great rock formation, however, his attention was instantly sidetracked by a scent borne to him on the slight breeze. It was that of anoter horse, quite close by. Unmistakeably a mare. His interest piqued, he travelled quietly through the undergrowth, all senses now alert.

It didn't take long for him to come across the painted filly, the white of her pelt visible through the surrounding vegetation. He saw her before he heard her, and that was when the sound of deep and steady breathing alerted her to the fact that she was sleeping. Vulture was a confident horse, and used to getting what he wanted, but he did remember his manners from time to time and so was loath to startle the sleeping female. He stepped back, letting his gaze wander with mild interest across their surroundings, and then let his voice sound out towards her.

"Hello-o?"

[G I A C]

The mare - filly, really, since she was only young - seemed startled by his sudden appearance. He stood back, as unmoving as a statue as she climbed to her feet, not yet willing to risk getting himself a kick for his troubles if he approached her before she had a grasp on both the situation and her nerves. She was smaller than he was, and he was fairly confident that he'd be able to drive her away from the island he called home if she caused trouble, but right not he was interested in exactly the opposite. Things were altogether too dull around here without something to share them with, and he was decidedly lacking in attractive female company.

His ears flicked towards her, attentive, and his eyes followed her movements as she stamped a hoof, attempting to guage her mood. She didn't seem to trust him, but perhaps that could easily be remedied. After all, he wasn't here to harm her, just looking for a little company.

"The name's Vulture," he told her, easy confidence warming his voice. "Care to tell me your own?"

[G I A C]

Vulture's gaze, not threatening yet still intense, lingered upon the snow and rust coloured mare's lithe form, catching the movement of her lips as she spoke for the first time although she spoke too softly to be heard. His ears pricked forward, interested, as she repeated herself and he breathed in, taking in her scent as it lingered in the air. He would have to remember it; he had the feeling that he might be seeing more of this little lady. Perhaps it was forward of him to assume so, but he had nothing to gain in being shy.

"Edana. Nice name," he told her breezily, attempting to instill a little confidence into the atmosphere by putting her at ease. His gaze still followed her as she stepped forward again. "Oh, no. My territory is a little way from here, this is a public place. You're quite welcome."

[G I A C]

Vulture's ears flicked forward at the young mare's questions, so many of them and all spoken in quick succession. A grin stole over his features, less laughing at her than surprised and a little delighted by the sudden influx of questions. He found himself thanking whatever whim or twist of fate that had brought him here at exactly the right time to wake the young horse from her slumber; he felt that she could make interesting company if her curiosity continued to overshadow any wariness.

"There aren't many horses here right now, I'm on my own back at my territory," he told her, slight amusement brightening his dark eyes, "I've counted five habitable places on my journeys, though there may well be more out there."

He paused for breath, then reached out to nudge her shoulder gently.

"Don't apologise," he insisted, "I'd rather have questions than silence."

[G I A C]

The mare smiled back for the first time, the first display of amusement or happiness that he had seen from her, and Vulture couldn't help but return the gesture. It had been a little while since he'd arrived and since then he hadn't had much contact with others of his kind. It was good to have company again.

He sensed something, some slight wariness still when he touched her, but he was a particularly tactile stallion and he hoped that she would soon realise that his nudges or slight nips meant no harm. His ears pricked and expression sharpened with interest at her words.

"Oh, do you intend to stick around long enough for me to find out then?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, tone light. There was a flash of amusement in his eyes as he spoke again, "More questions? You really are full of then, aren't you? My territory is called Viracocha's Wood. Don't ask me what 'Viracocha' means, I wouldn't know, but I'm fairly sure it's a name out of old legends."

[G I A C]

Vulture hesitated, eyeing Edana as her eyes widened and she hurried to get out her words. His eyes flicked to the movement of her dainty hooves and he lowered his head slightly, realising that he should have chosen his wording better. The horses of his old herd, his father's herd, had been largely untroubled by any strife or violence. His sire had favoured tough love sometimes, it had to be admitted, but he was never a violent horse, and the youngsters of the herd had never been afraid of him. Growing up in such an environment, Vulture had grown used to horses who were familiar with his confidence, his jokes and his banter. It hadn't occured to him before that horses whose pasts had been more difficult than his might be made uncomfortable by his bold attitude.

"I'm not warning you off," he told her earnestly, still attempting to keep the atmosphere as light as possible, because truth be told those who brooded, were angry or inconsolable made him uneasy. "You're welcome here, for however long you want to stay."

He was tempted to reach out, to brush his head reassuringly against her side as he had been so used to doing with his childhood friends, but instinct and her frozen position indicated that this really wouldn't be the best idea, so he stayed where he was, watching her carefully.

"Oh, yes. They're mostly forgotten, but there are tales of great floods that go back generations. There was a time in the past when this island was full of life, though it's stood largely empty for years now. I'm fairly sure that Viracocha was the hero of one of those old tales."