Pixie knew that Path was hurting and he didn't blame her but by the gods he would be man enough to stand and explain himself. He may well collapse afterwards, but by then it would either be cast back into his own realm or by the side of his mate. And by the gods he hoped it was with his mate.
Taking a fortifying breath Pixie slowly stood on unsteady legs until he was fully upright and head held up. "Path" he sighed, almost more to himself than anything "My beloved Path, I never wished to bring you any pain I hope you know that. The reason for me being gone is the same reason as for my current state." Taking another deep breath he plunged into his story..
"Very shortly after Darroch was born I was searching Sionayra for a certain wild flower to bring you, one that I hoped would bring you much happiness as you bringing our son into the world had brought to me. Upon my quest I discoverd that the land had taken upon a terrible curse and was being poisoned at its very root. It was a fast paced curse that allowed for no time to make preperations, it was either act or risk that beloved land being over taken by this.. this poison as it was. I spent from then till just the last while trying to stave off that poison. It has taken a toll on me love, as the land was sick so was the food and water. Not only was the healing making me weak but so was the starvation, I nearly lost my life on several occasions. Tis why it took me as long as it did, if I were able to keep up my strength it would have been over more quickly, but as it was if I left to send word to you or to ask for aid the poison would have taken over and I fear some of the damage could not have been undone. Thor found me as he was searching the lands and was able to get me strong enough to search my own food. I have spent the time since gaining strength and courage for the journey. I know I should have sent word but I felt after all this time "word" would not have sufficed and I NEEDED to explain what happend face to face. Please love, tell my I did right by coming to you."
He knew he sounded weak as his strength was giving out, his legs had started to tremble again during the last of his tale but he had accomplished what he had come to do. He had found his mate and his son and explained his actions. While losing them would be the purest form of hell he could not have been able to stand himself if he had let that land be poisoned. How he prayed his Path had not been hurt beyond repair.
Finally meeting..
Re: Finally meeting..
Hold, mother, and allow me to speak.
It was rude - beyond rude, for him to jump in so abruptly, much less while Path as of yet had her mouth open to respond in kind. Darroch knew that had he chosen any other words he would have been whooped right then and there; if Path knew how to do anything it was how to teach respect.
Even so, the both of them moved in unison to stand on either side of Pixie, each one leaning in close to offer support should he wish to remain standing. Each of them stood close enough for their sides to brush his, if he merely shifted his weight right, and yet out of respect they granted enough distance for him to pull away if he really desired.
Path was refusing to look at him.
It is quite the tale, I shall grant, and I told him myself of the odd fluctuations I had felt within the homeland before our arrival. It had seemed proper to explain why I would wish to bring him here rather than call you to us, if I was to find the means to aid him. That, combined with the rest of his accounting; to have found and healed an entire land within a realm of his own accord doth seem well within the realm of doubt.
This didn't seem to be a very kind beginning, but if he was to make his point he had to first start with what would be of concern to her. And, he had to admit, she had some valid concern going on there.
Even so, the sensations were felt. This, however unlikely, would explain them. Also if his malady is of a magical draining, it would also explain the muted effect of these herbs. They will aid in physical troubles, but he needs to recharge his magical energies and sources. Hybrid taught me - well in any case, there is only so much reserve energy to be pulled from the flesh. When that begins to fail the workings rely on your very spirit, and whence your spirit fails to fuel your efforts you perish. The only way for him to recover, short of much sleep and time, is to drain an area of all life to such a point that none shall ever grow within that spot again. The worse the affliction, the greater the area. If what he says is in earnest, that he discovered and healed the homeland and was thus occupied during my youth, then he hath aided in maintaining our homeland even though he has also done us great evil. And if it is true, if he were to open his mouth for us we will see that his tongue has gone yellow and his throat a bright pink. It is the residue of magic left behind after it drains the body.
Path had to admit that while she was glad she had taught her son to use the proper manners, they quite often involved a few too many words. On the other hoof, simply stating that it was an odd tale but a yellow tongue would prove it to be true would have been an exceedingly rude interruption, especially upon one's mother.
Where was this place which ye battled, that yon bond-mate Thor could discover thee and not your own son? And how is it that 'tis only thee who hath noticed this great illness to begin battling it; felt ye not the works of others, perhaps even abandoneds, aiding thee? Ye are talented, my love, yet I know well that it is well beyond thee to assist an entire land. And more, ye can not - ye can not - be of absence for such a time without having notice of thy bonded at the least, if not some other. Send word, aye, perhaps such task as ye may have taken required thy entire focus. Yet whence discovered, as ye already hath claimed was possible from sir Lothorien's granting thy recovery, thou had all opportune to garner either aid or a means of reaching others.
Frowning, she gave her tail a hard flick, the sky-blue ribbon at the end lashing her side with a painful sting and leaving a mark like a whip. She had over-estimated and the price burned on her now, though she didn't flinch; the price of her rage.
Ye forgot us. Upon thy task, however great or small it may have been, however noble, we were forgotten. Abandoned, by my own mate, by his own sire. Perhaps, when it was nary the right moment, a flickering thought of thy family occurred, aye... Yet we were left behind in the end. Speak true to me, if thou doth truly wish to call my thy love, and grant me not a sugared tongue.
Darroch had to make an effort to hold his tongue here. He knew the subtext, what she couldn't bring herself to say, and it was not his play to mention it; Pixie had hurt her, and greatly. He had offered his story, yes, and explained the reasons for his absence - this inability to do more than battle a strange illness in the homeland, this secret time healing that he might make the journey to meet them - yet he had given nothing of what she honestly needed.
He had a great toll taken from him, yes. But so did she. Whatever the reasons, good or ill, she had been hurt. And she needed that wrong acknowledged, needed to know that such a fact mattered. He did not want to lose them - and indeed if he knew her half as well as he had when they courted he would know that such would never possibly happen. She had chosen him, accepted him for eternity as her one and only. But he was held outside of her heart right now, for he had grieved her too much to so easily gain re-entry.
She was challenging him. They - she - was merely an after thought? Something to consider after diving into such a large task as he claimed? He could not even send that he would see them as soon as he could when he began to heal, and that he would come to them to explain himself, to even grant that small hope? If she was so much nothing to be left behind, then she would not leave him, no, but she would no longer love him either.
She could not love one who did not love her in turn. And while she sensed his tension, exhaustion and worry, she saw no regret, no thought for the hurt he had brought her after she had so easily trusted him.
Darroch, meanwhile, was feeling a little dizzy from the circumstances. He was standing next to his sire - his true and proper father - and yet, he did not view the stallion as such, not yet. He merely viewed him as his mother's mate. For the moment, he thought this must be much how Nova felt most of the time. While he was a part of events he was also separate.
He had been left behind for his entire life, but he no longer cared. He could not miss something he either never had, or was never missing. After all, while everyone helped to raise him it was that lightning elemental who had taken place as his mother's partner in caring for him his entire life. When he was young he had fancied that they would become mates instead and his family would again be whole.
Now that it was, he wasn't sure how to feel; and so chose to feel nothing.
He was scared of letting the stallion in, now that he had returned, at the least until he saw how things continued to unfold. What sort of Serian was he dealing with, first of all; and would he be hurt again? He would be, of course. Life came with hurts and disappointments. But this - he would not willingly volunteer for such hurt as this.
Word would have sufficed. I cried for you. That was how Hybrid stepped into your role. He found me wandering, that Mother would not hear my tears. Some others understood, yet it was Hybrid that was able to be there. Not you. Not even word of you... Father, you were right to aid the land, but wrong to leave us behind.
His tone, unlike his mother's, remained completely flat and devoid of motion. It carried the weight of a death sentence.
But not very long ago, oh how he had cried.
It was rude - beyond rude, for him to jump in so abruptly, much less while Path as of yet had her mouth open to respond in kind. Darroch knew that had he chosen any other words he would have been whooped right then and there; if Path knew how to do anything it was how to teach respect.
Even so, the both of them moved in unison to stand on either side of Pixie, each one leaning in close to offer support should he wish to remain standing. Each of them stood close enough for their sides to brush his, if he merely shifted his weight right, and yet out of respect they granted enough distance for him to pull away if he really desired.
Path was refusing to look at him.
It is quite the tale, I shall grant, and I told him myself of the odd fluctuations I had felt within the homeland before our arrival. It had seemed proper to explain why I would wish to bring him here rather than call you to us, if I was to find the means to aid him. That, combined with the rest of his accounting; to have found and healed an entire land within a realm of his own accord doth seem well within the realm of doubt.
This didn't seem to be a very kind beginning, but if he was to make his point he had to first start with what would be of concern to her. And, he had to admit, she had some valid concern going on there.
Even so, the sensations were felt. This, however unlikely, would explain them. Also if his malady is of a magical draining, it would also explain the muted effect of these herbs. They will aid in physical troubles, but he needs to recharge his magical energies and sources. Hybrid taught me - well in any case, there is only so much reserve energy to be pulled from the flesh. When that begins to fail the workings rely on your very spirit, and whence your spirit fails to fuel your efforts you perish. The only way for him to recover, short of much sleep and time, is to drain an area of all life to such a point that none shall ever grow within that spot again. The worse the affliction, the greater the area. If what he says is in earnest, that he discovered and healed the homeland and was thus occupied during my youth, then he hath aided in maintaining our homeland even though he has also done us great evil. And if it is true, if he were to open his mouth for us we will see that his tongue has gone yellow and his throat a bright pink. It is the residue of magic left behind after it drains the body.
Path had to admit that while she was glad she had taught her son to use the proper manners, they quite often involved a few too many words. On the other hoof, simply stating that it was an odd tale but a yellow tongue would prove it to be true would have been an exceedingly rude interruption, especially upon one's mother.
Where was this place which ye battled, that yon bond-mate Thor could discover thee and not your own son? And how is it that 'tis only thee who hath noticed this great illness to begin battling it; felt ye not the works of others, perhaps even abandoneds, aiding thee? Ye are talented, my love, yet I know well that it is well beyond thee to assist an entire land. And more, ye can not - ye can not - be of absence for such a time without having notice of thy bonded at the least, if not some other. Send word, aye, perhaps such task as ye may have taken required thy entire focus. Yet whence discovered, as ye already hath claimed was possible from sir Lothorien's granting thy recovery, thou had all opportune to garner either aid or a means of reaching others.
Frowning, she gave her tail a hard flick, the sky-blue ribbon at the end lashing her side with a painful sting and leaving a mark like a whip. She had over-estimated and the price burned on her now, though she didn't flinch; the price of her rage.
Ye forgot us. Upon thy task, however great or small it may have been, however noble, we were forgotten. Abandoned, by my own mate, by his own sire. Perhaps, when it was nary the right moment, a flickering thought of thy family occurred, aye... Yet we were left behind in the end. Speak true to me, if thou doth truly wish to call my thy love, and grant me not a sugared tongue.
Darroch had to make an effort to hold his tongue here. He knew the subtext, what she couldn't bring herself to say, and it was not his play to mention it; Pixie had hurt her, and greatly. He had offered his story, yes, and explained the reasons for his absence - this inability to do more than battle a strange illness in the homeland, this secret time healing that he might make the journey to meet them - yet he had given nothing of what she honestly needed.
He had a great toll taken from him, yes. But so did she. Whatever the reasons, good or ill, she had been hurt. And she needed that wrong acknowledged, needed to know that such a fact mattered. He did not want to lose them - and indeed if he knew her half as well as he had when they courted he would know that such would never possibly happen. She had chosen him, accepted him for eternity as her one and only. But he was held outside of her heart right now, for he had grieved her too much to so easily gain re-entry.
She was challenging him. They - she - was merely an after thought? Something to consider after diving into such a large task as he claimed? He could not even send that he would see them as soon as he could when he began to heal, and that he would come to them to explain himself, to even grant that small hope? If she was so much nothing to be left behind, then she would not leave him, no, but she would no longer love him either.
She could not love one who did not love her in turn. And while she sensed his tension, exhaustion and worry, she saw no regret, no thought for the hurt he had brought her after she had so easily trusted him.
Darroch, meanwhile, was feeling a little dizzy from the circumstances. He was standing next to his sire - his true and proper father - and yet, he did not view the stallion as such, not yet. He merely viewed him as his mother's mate. For the moment, he thought this must be much how Nova felt most of the time. While he was a part of events he was also separate.
He had been left behind for his entire life, but he no longer cared. He could not miss something he either never had, or was never missing. After all, while everyone helped to raise him it was that lightning elemental who had taken place as his mother's partner in caring for him his entire life. When he was young he had fancied that they would become mates instead and his family would again be whole.
Now that it was, he wasn't sure how to feel; and so chose to feel nothing.
He was scared of letting the stallion in, now that he had returned, at the least until he saw how things continued to unfold. What sort of Serian was he dealing with, first of all; and would he be hurt again? He would be, of course. Life came with hurts and disappointments. But this - he would not willingly volunteer for such hurt as this.
Word would have sufficed. I cried for you. That was how Hybrid stepped into your role. He found me wandering, that Mother would not hear my tears. Some others understood, yet it was Hybrid that was able to be there. Not you. Not even word of you... Father, you were right to aid the land, but wrong to leave us behind.
His tone, unlike his mother's, remained completely flat and devoid of motion. It carried the weight of a death sentence.
But not very long ago, oh how he had cried.
Re: Finally meeting..
Pixie struggled.. over so many things. His need to scream out how much it had killed his soul to be apart from them. He clenched his jaw and teeterd back and forth, originally when they had come to stand beside him he had leaned against Path for her warm comfort but when she demanded how he could be possibly telling the truth he pulled away slightly. Stealing himself for the patience he had taken months to gather the strength he knew he would need for this, he slowly began what was feeling dangerously like a death sentance defense.
"I call you my love because you have never once, For Even A Second, left my heart. Either one of you." He turned his head to include Darroch in this. "I was searching a gorge on the far side of Sionayra and saw what I believed to be the result of a serious dry spell. Little did I know it was the begining or a poison. I can not give you the answers you so desperatly need about whether there were others aiding me or how it started all I know is after I saw it I went to get help but when I got to the top of the gorge and looked back I could see how far it had spread in that short time and knew that there was no time. I dont know what started it or why it moved so fast, I dont know if there were others fighting in other areas, all I knew... ok well I guess assumed, was that if I left to go get help or send word then it would be to far spread to fight back with any degree of success as there wasnt really much others coud do to tend the soil."
Taking a breath and shaking his head he took a second to calm himself before continuing "I dont know what to say to convince you that I had no intention of leaving either of you. All I know is that I fought so that the land stayed healthy and prayed every minute that the two of you were safe." By the end of his statement his voice was almost a whisper, the fatuige he felt seeping into his voice.
As one last effort before he was going to need rest he simply stated I guess this is what you've been wating for and opened his mouth to reveal a yellow tounge and bright pink throat.
"I call you my love because you have never once, For Even A Second, left my heart. Either one of you." He turned his head to include Darroch in this. "I was searching a gorge on the far side of Sionayra and saw what I believed to be the result of a serious dry spell. Little did I know it was the begining or a poison. I can not give you the answers you so desperatly need about whether there were others aiding me or how it started all I know is after I saw it I went to get help but when I got to the top of the gorge and looked back I could see how far it had spread in that short time and knew that there was no time. I dont know what started it or why it moved so fast, I dont know if there were others fighting in other areas, all I knew... ok well I guess assumed, was that if I left to go get help or send word then it would be to far spread to fight back with any degree of success as there wasnt really much others coud do to tend the soil."
Taking a breath and shaking his head he took a second to calm himself before continuing "I dont know what to say to convince you that I had no intention of leaving either of you. All I know is that I fought so that the land stayed healthy and prayed every minute that the two of you were safe." By the end of his statement his voice was almost a whisper, the fatuige he felt seeping into his voice.
As one last effort before he was going to need rest he simply stated I guess this is what you've been wating for and opened his mouth to reveal a yellow tounge and bright pink throat.
Re: Finally meeting..
This time, Darroch had no need to jump in; and yet Path also remained silent. This was... Awkward.
They were stuck at an impasse. It hurt her all over again, though Path could understand his defense. It was a split second decision, one which had to be made and had been well made at that. Yet still, she felt he could have handled it better. With the link between Serians and their bondeds, he could have easily sent word for at the least some aid in remaining strong, or asked that a message be carried.
He didn't tell her how he had managed to be gone for so long, or how Thor had somehow found him after the battle left him in such a horrid state. He didn't tell her how long he had been recovering, or even that he would try and handle anything similar, may it never again occur, in a way that would hopefully break them apart less.
He had yet to even utter 'I'm sorry.'
None ever claimed it to be thy intention, Path finally murmured, her voice sounding small for the very first time in her life. Yet it is still what remains. I am glad you were successful and did not perish.
For the record, Darroch added, moving with his mother as they supported the stallion's weight and began to guide him towards the circle-home he held full access to with Path and the others of the Cherished Dreams, I knew your tongue would be yellow. I wasn't waiting for that. I was waiting for my father. For you.
Rest, Path murmured, and stepped away even as he had pulled away a little before, quickly turning her back on him as she headed towards her fields. I shall return with supplies soon, if one does not come to aid thee.
She paused for a moment, one delicate hoof still lifted in the air before whispering, Welcome home.
Darroch gave his tail a flick as he looked at his sire, waiting to see if the realm-shift from his home to the Circle home had been too much for the stallion. Such methods of travel were the only practical way to move about this realm, but the manipulations of the physical form into spirit could be taxing on one already weakened, and Pixie had already shown before that he felt the effects.
For some reason, his mother was choosing to walk instead. He could still see her from where he stood, watching to see if Pixie would need to be caught or else merely a guard while he rested.
It seemed his mother had to gather her thoughts and lick her wounds. Which left him to face a reality he was not entirely certain he could fully handle.
His father stood next to him.
Darroch's life had just drastically changed.
They were stuck at an impasse. It hurt her all over again, though Path could understand his defense. It was a split second decision, one which had to be made and had been well made at that. Yet still, she felt he could have handled it better. With the link between Serians and their bondeds, he could have easily sent word for at the least some aid in remaining strong, or asked that a message be carried.
He didn't tell her how he had managed to be gone for so long, or how Thor had somehow found him after the battle left him in such a horrid state. He didn't tell her how long he had been recovering, or even that he would try and handle anything similar, may it never again occur, in a way that would hopefully break them apart less.
He had yet to even utter 'I'm sorry.'
None ever claimed it to be thy intention, Path finally murmured, her voice sounding small for the very first time in her life. Yet it is still what remains. I am glad you were successful and did not perish.
For the record, Darroch added, moving with his mother as they supported the stallion's weight and began to guide him towards the circle-home he held full access to with Path and the others of the Cherished Dreams, I knew your tongue would be yellow. I wasn't waiting for that. I was waiting for my father. For you.
Rest, Path murmured, and stepped away even as he had pulled away a little before, quickly turning her back on him as she headed towards her fields. I shall return with supplies soon, if one does not come to aid thee.
She paused for a moment, one delicate hoof still lifted in the air before whispering, Welcome home.
Darroch gave his tail a flick as he looked at his sire, waiting to see if the realm-shift from his home to the Circle home had been too much for the stallion. Such methods of travel were the only practical way to move about this realm, but the manipulations of the physical form into spirit could be taxing on one already weakened, and Pixie had already shown before that he felt the effects.
For some reason, his mother was choosing to walk instead. He could still see her from where he stood, watching to see if Pixie would need to be caught or else merely a guard while he rested.
It seemed his mother had to gather her thoughts and lick her wounds. Which left him to face a reality he was not entirely certain he could fully handle.
His father stood next to him.
Darroch's life had just drastically changed.
Re: Finally meeting..
Pixie felt the tension leave his body and his legs quivered. "Path, I promise I will make this up to you and tell you better exactly what happend and how I feel when I am stronger. I know it will take time but" He took a step towards her "I WILL be here for you and I intend to keep you by my side so if anything like this happens again we can face it together. I hope you can come to trust me again and I will show you every day you let me just how much you mean to me. I love you."
He had declared what he needed to now that he knew he was welcome and that he had a chance. Leaning against Darroch he sighed "I dont mean to be weak but I need somewhere to rest for a bit, can you help me son? If I can call you that..." Vision starting to blur around the edges Pixie hoped he had done the right thing.
He had declared what he needed to now that he knew he was welcome and that he had a chance. Leaning against Darroch he sighed "I dont mean to be weak but I need somewhere to rest for a bit, can you help me son? If I can call you that..." Vision starting to blur around the edges Pixie hoped he had done the right thing.
Re: Finally meeting..
She heard him, as she walked, and she felt her heart open to him again, at least a little. This was the sort of thing that had won her in the beginning; and he had finally acknowledged the hurt in her.
Why was it so hard for him to do that when she was telling him it was there? Why wait for her to break first? Could he not love her when she was proud?
Her mind was in turmoil with her heart. She couldn't just pull away from him, not fully; he was her mate. Giving up on him, abandoning hope was not something she could do. Even though part of her wished it.
He would have to show her. But she wouldn't be cruel. As he finished what he had to say, she lifted her head and sent back a soft, wordless whicker, a small note of broken-winged hope still fluttering in it. It was all she could offer, but she did at the least give him as much.
Waiting for him to grow stronger would not be easy, and yet she would. Unless she was bringing him supplies - extra food or fresh water if he was unable to reach the nearby source - she'd wait for him to approach her, wait for him to even broach conversation when she did come to help. And rather he remained in their Circle Home or his own lands, she would come.
Path was just that sort of mare.
She also knew that, while she would remain silent and wait his ability to do more, her hurt would come between them until he could heal it. Fair reason or not she had lost him for quite a time. And that was going to hurt until he could and did make up for it. If nothing else he would see it in her eyes, in her stance. He would know.
He was Pixie. He would know.
For the moment... She had food to gather.
Darroch wound up wincing slightly in surprise as he took his father's weight, even as his mother's form grew smaller and smaller after that one last call. He was actively impressed that the stallion was still able to stand at all.
This was what he had come from - this stallion was a part of him.
He had to admit, at least to himself, that he could have gotten worse for a dad. At least he had sense enough to ask after his comfort with being addressed as son.
Here, those last few steps took you farther through my realm than you may realize. We are in your Circle Home - I think you can expect to see Sparkle with some sweet fruits before too long, or Sign with salty grain.
Now that his mother was gone his speech pattern lightened considerably. It wasn't a conscious choice, merely an effect she had on him. Although contractions were still fairly rare and he still sounded pretty formal compared to many others even when he stopped using his 'proper' speech.
It was tempting to crack a joke about being referred to as 'son,' yet with as exhausted as Pixie seemed to be it would more than likely not be the appropriate moment. Darroch, however, never had learned how to properly curb his impulses, much less become enraptured in anything in the manner his mother apparently was with his father. It was impossible for him to fully understand the emotions passing between the two, even if he did know his mother well enough to guess at what she was not saying.
So it was that he made one of the stupidest comments of his young life.
As far as being called son, I see no reason not to. I've been son to quite a few Serians by now. That might as well include you.
It was a joke, one more specifically relating to a bond-mate of his by the name of BlackIce, who often referred to quite a few as either 'son,' 'sonny,' or if he was irritated with you 'look here you whippersnapper.' It was honestly the stallion's only true quirk; besides his odd sense of humor in grandfatherly nicknames, he was a very demure fellow and had a certain burning weight of knowledge within his eyes that often made you wonder what stories he wasn't telling you.
Pixie of course didn't know this, and Darroch of course had just sprung the opening to a joke that could have sparked a conversation if inquired after - such as 'just how many 'parents' have you had' - during a moment when the stallion was not only exhausted to the point of his body continuing to fail him, but in turmoil over his mate. The yellow tongue would remain until he was healing properly, the residual magic remaining to sap any strength returning to his body until he had reached full capabilities again.
Or so Hybrid had told him. How these things were discovered was quite the mystery, as Hybrid himself had refused to reveal his source of such information, but he knew what he had been told and so far it seemed to be accurate.
If only there was a quick, and perhaps magical cure for such as what ailed his father, Darroch would have been glad to procure it. He did not want time to think about his father having returned; he wanted, instead, to learn from Pixie instead now that he was here to teach and guide. Perhaps there were things of this ailment that his guardian had not told him, and perhaps his sire would see fit to.
Perhaps it all meant that when Pixie used the term son, he was the only one to be able to do so in earnest. It seemed Darroch was beginning to see him as more than a stranger, after what had just passed. He had seen a very clear glimpse of his father's mettle just now, and he was willing to accept what Pixie had revealed of himself.
Why was it so hard for him to do that when she was telling him it was there? Why wait for her to break first? Could he not love her when she was proud?
Her mind was in turmoil with her heart. She couldn't just pull away from him, not fully; he was her mate. Giving up on him, abandoning hope was not something she could do. Even though part of her wished it.
He would have to show her. But she wouldn't be cruel. As he finished what he had to say, she lifted her head and sent back a soft, wordless whicker, a small note of broken-winged hope still fluttering in it. It was all she could offer, but she did at the least give him as much.
Waiting for him to grow stronger would not be easy, and yet she would. Unless she was bringing him supplies - extra food or fresh water if he was unable to reach the nearby source - she'd wait for him to approach her, wait for him to even broach conversation when she did come to help. And rather he remained in their Circle Home or his own lands, she would come.
Path was just that sort of mare.
She also knew that, while she would remain silent and wait his ability to do more, her hurt would come between them until he could heal it. Fair reason or not she had lost him for quite a time. And that was going to hurt until he could and did make up for it. If nothing else he would see it in her eyes, in her stance. He would know.
He was Pixie. He would know.
For the moment... She had food to gather.
Darroch wound up wincing slightly in surprise as he took his father's weight, even as his mother's form grew smaller and smaller after that one last call. He was actively impressed that the stallion was still able to stand at all.
This was what he had come from - this stallion was a part of him.
He had to admit, at least to himself, that he could have gotten worse for a dad. At least he had sense enough to ask after his comfort with being addressed as son.
Here, those last few steps took you farther through my realm than you may realize. We are in your Circle Home - I think you can expect to see Sparkle with some sweet fruits before too long, or Sign with salty grain.
Now that his mother was gone his speech pattern lightened considerably. It wasn't a conscious choice, merely an effect she had on him. Although contractions were still fairly rare and he still sounded pretty formal compared to many others even when he stopped using his 'proper' speech.
It was tempting to crack a joke about being referred to as 'son,' yet with as exhausted as Pixie seemed to be it would more than likely not be the appropriate moment. Darroch, however, never had learned how to properly curb his impulses, much less become enraptured in anything in the manner his mother apparently was with his father. It was impossible for him to fully understand the emotions passing between the two, even if he did know his mother well enough to guess at what she was not saying.
So it was that he made one of the stupidest comments of his young life.
As far as being called son, I see no reason not to. I've been son to quite a few Serians by now. That might as well include you.
It was a joke, one more specifically relating to a bond-mate of his by the name of BlackIce, who often referred to quite a few as either 'son,' 'sonny,' or if he was irritated with you 'look here you whippersnapper.' It was honestly the stallion's only true quirk; besides his odd sense of humor in grandfatherly nicknames, he was a very demure fellow and had a certain burning weight of knowledge within his eyes that often made you wonder what stories he wasn't telling you.
Pixie of course didn't know this, and Darroch of course had just sprung the opening to a joke that could have sparked a conversation if inquired after - such as 'just how many 'parents' have you had' - during a moment when the stallion was not only exhausted to the point of his body continuing to fail him, but in turmoil over his mate. The yellow tongue would remain until he was healing properly, the residual magic remaining to sap any strength returning to his body until he had reached full capabilities again.
Or so Hybrid had told him. How these things were discovered was quite the mystery, as Hybrid himself had refused to reveal his source of such information, but he knew what he had been told and so far it seemed to be accurate.
If only there was a quick, and perhaps magical cure for such as what ailed his father, Darroch would have been glad to procure it. He did not want time to think about his father having returned; he wanted, instead, to learn from Pixie instead now that he was here to teach and guide. Perhaps there were things of this ailment that his guardian had not told him, and perhaps his sire would see fit to.
Perhaps it all meant that when Pixie used the term son, he was the only one to be able to do so in earnest. It seemed Darroch was beginning to see him as more than a stranger, after what had just passed. He had seen a very clear glimpse of his father's mettle just now, and he was willing to accept what Pixie had revealed of himself.