Caden
Out on the Ahi Coast, sand sprays in towering waves up and down the beach, chased by cheers and the shrieks of small children (and maybe a few scandalized parents). Caden isn’t a devoted kids-person usually, but something about Torchline’s gaggles of citizens and their beachgoing ways makes him lackadaisical whenever he visits. Plus it’s not too hot for reckless galloping just yet - plenty of reason to take a few tots on a reckless ride up and down the beach on Hugo’s back.
The draft comes to an impressive sliding stop, large hooves leaving tracks in the sand and spraying an unfortunate sunbather who hollers something Caden doesn’t bother parsing. “There you go kiddo, thank you for riding Hugo the Great! Tips are appreciated but not required. Gold only - sorry, no silver.” The kid laughs, shaky-legged as Caden slides easily off Hugo’s back and pulls them down to plop them back on solid ground. They totter off toward what is hopefully their parent (Caden didn’t exactly keep track of where he picked them up on the beach, but that’s not his problem) and he props his hands on his hips as he beams out across the gawkers and hopeful participants alike. His flagrantly open white shirt billows as a breeze comes through to cool down both man and unicorn, both of them gleaming copper in the sun. “Alright who’s next?” The sunbather angrily throws back their towel and stands, fuming, but Caden cheerfully ignores him while pointing aimlessly out across the beach to pinpoint some random passerby with a come-hither smile. “You! How about it? Wanna fly on land?”
The draft comes to an impressive sliding stop, large hooves leaving tracks in the sand and spraying an unfortunate sunbather who hollers something Caden doesn’t bother parsing. “There you go kiddo, thank you for riding Hugo the Great! Tips are appreciated but not required. Gold only - sorry, no silver.” The kid laughs, shaky-legged as Caden slides easily off Hugo’s back and pulls them down to plop them back on solid ground. They totter off toward what is hopefully their parent (Caden didn’t exactly keep track of where he picked them up on the beach, but that’s not his problem) and he props his hands on his hips as he beams out across the gawkers and hopeful participants alike. His flagrantly open white shirt billows as a breeze comes through to cool down both man and unicorn, both of them gleaming copper in the sun. “Alright who’s next?” The sunbather angrily throws back their towel and stands, fuming, but Caden cheerfully ignores him while pointing aimlessly out across the beach to pinpoint some random passerby with a come-hither smile. “You! How about it? Wanna fly on land?”
You’re red wine and roses, sugar coated
Just a runaway carousel that spins me ‘round, ‘round, ‘round
Just a runaway carousel that spins me ‘round, ‘round, ‘round
