Ni'Srilan: The Desert: we're all friends here; ALERION, TRIGGER, VORAER

Dancing in the desert, blowing up the sunshine

Baraqel is about as tolerant as they come.

I mean, who is he to judge, anyway? To each his own – Strandwolf likes mares. Alerion likes stallions. Some horses like everything. Baraqel likes fire. We’re all one, big melting-pot of quirkiness – as long as you’re interesting, Baraqel has no problem with you.

Doesn’t mean he’ll always be nice, but, c’mon.

Alerion is certainly his fathers’ son. Baraqel remembers hearing Wyvern tell the story of how he found Icarus once. He remembers being envious, in the back of his mind (or at least fascinated, the way humans are seeing birds in flight and knowing that they will never be able to do the same). The love Wyvern spoke of had been palpable even to Baraqel, whose disaffected destructiveness and sheer inability to be a decent horse have rather inhibited his ability to foster a successful relationship. Baraqel wonders if Wyvern and Icarus were ever like this – awkward, uncertain in his newfound desires.

“Alerion, you’re a warrior,” he says after a pause, unwilling to allow this deep moment to continue any longer while he stands there observing a dung beetle, “Who you sleep with off the field isn’t what matters. You kick ass the way Icarus steals things and Wyvern…does…that stuff scholars do.” he shrugs a gleaming golden shoulder.

He’s heard the Academy has some remarkable foliage, which is why Baraqel has always dreamt of torching it.

Some things, like flying, just aren’t destined to happen for him.

“And dude, I’m gonna find a way to get you some – stallion or mare.” Well, he’s got authority now. He could technically order someone to –

No, that is unethical. Curses.

GLD. B A R A Q E L;
THE FIRESTARTER;
LIGHTNING III || FIRE II || IGNITION