The cool air didn't much bother the eodai as he picked his way through the forest. The lush domain of the wardens was ever-impressive, but not nearly as impressive as his mother's little kingdom. He missed her beautiful forest and her flowing mane, lain across the grass like water flowing through the roots of plants. She didn't move much, but if he lay close to her sometimes she would press her snout into his side and he would feel her love radiating outwards.
He liked his rider. He liked Evercrest. But he missed Mersa. He even missed his siblings, grating as it was to admit it.
He wove carefully through the roots and undergrowth, swaying ever so slightly so his odd, geometric horns didn't catch in the hanging branches or dangling vines. His own vines, wound loosely around his antlers, swung heavily back and forth. Some were flowering despite the time of years, some had born fruit. Some of the fruit was rotting and smelled sickly sweet, of fermentation and decay and rebirth. It would fall off and take root and grow as he walked.
It was a nice little gift everywhere he went. A pretty vine with pretty flowers and tasty fruit. His own concoction. There wasn't anything like anywhere else in the world.
Probably. He didn't really check.
The stables were fine, of course, they were all well taken care of. Evercrest loved its dragons. However, Vidyn preferred to wander the forest. He wasn't yet used to the buildings these people erected, the way they lived and talked. The small villages near his mother's forest hadn't been nearly as full, as intricate as these were.
He decided it was alright to take his time getting used to it. He'd spend a little less time every evening the forest and a little more in the stables, chatting with wardens and dragons. He was accomplishing something as he did both–caring for the plants with his magic and learning from the others. It was a good way to spend his time.
If he wasn't ready, he wasn't ready, as his mother would say.
Vidyn felt one ear prick up and he froze, his head tilted and his ears flickering. He had heard something. A soft sound. Speech, he realized, and he recognized the voice as well. After a moment the murmur resolved itself into a word, his name. His rider was in the forest, seeking him out. Well, that was alright with him.
Vidyn liked Will. He liked taking to him or listening to him or just sitting with him. They hung out together and that was perfectly fine. He though they would get along well for the rest of their lives.
Vidyn placed one long leg in front of the other, turning to face the direction Will's voice came from, and waited for his partner's path to intersect with his own.