mountain at my gates; [one-off]

[Lyrics]

For the first time in months, Autolycus had finally left the familiar comfort of Hyacinth Copse. However, unlike the countless times before, the stallion was leaving it behind for good.

He'd spent an abundance of days in solitude in the thick woodlands; sometimes peaceful, sometimes agitated, even torturous. Any other resident of his abode had drifted away like dandelion seeds long ago, and he accepted it in a resigned stupor. Dreams of the place becoming a thriving community with Autolycus at its charge had slowly faded into darkness and his motivation to seek his subjects's whereabouts or even meet potential members had been drained empty. Day after day spent with only the birds and forest creatures to keep him company, loneliness has swallowed him whole. Some days it was infuriating waking up to the same old morning chirp of the birds overhead, surrounded by the same old trees, light filtering down past the branches. To the normal eye, it was pleasant as can be, but Autolycus came to resent the sight, his beautiful Hyacinth Copse a ghost town left only to him. Borders went stale, his daily morning and evening patrol abandoned. Yet, for reasons still unknown to him, he stayed, all too content to shift from hoof to hoof and let the world go by without him. The monotony was both a blessing and a curse, and he didn't even seem to have the energy to do anything about it. All of whom he used to know became distant memories - sweet Amalthea, kind Isolus, even his apparent sworn enemy Aquilos, who'd quite surprisingly left him well alone after their rather unpleasant reunion.

The morning was the first bout of cold weather for a while - the first taste of the cold seasons to come. Autolycus woke from his sluggish slumber to find dark clouds looming above the canopy of trees. At first it only gave him a dull sense of surprise to not have the sun greet him at the end of his slumber. It's going to be winter soon, he thought idly to himself. Winter... how long would it have been since he arrived here now? His sleepy mind started to wander, not yet totally alert. It had been months since his last visitor - perhaps other horses had tried to enter Hyacinth Copse, who knows? All he knew is that he had come across none in the deep centre of the woods; not many knew of the foolproof southern entrance and untrained hooves would not be able to negotiate the almost-impenetrable forest otherwise. An apocalypse could have happened out there; the Northern armies could have overtaken the South but as long as the Copse was untouched, so was Autolycus. A thought, maybe meant to be humourous, suddenly appeared in his mind. I'm going to die an old hermit if I'm not careful.

At that, it was if a lightning had struck him where he lay, an overpowering course of electricity that inexplicably cause him to scramble upright from his sedentary state before he had realised his actions. It made him gasp, heave in that cool, fresh air that caused him to inhale that smell of oncoming rain like he never had before. The very movement, sudden and jolted as it was, caused his head to spin and body to stagger. An overwhelming sensation of fear and urgency had befallen him, and the added confusion to what had caused this response was only making it worse. He followed his first instinct to back up and felt another course of wild panic rush through him as his rump hit something extremely solid. Whipping his head around, expecting to face a monstrous enemy of some sort, he only came to find he had backed into a tree. Thus, at least, caused his breathing to slow and his mind to regain an idea where he was - deep within Hyacinth Copse, as he always was.

At that moment most of Autolycus' senses came back to him, even if the constant waves of unease persisted like a torrid ocean in his chest and stomach. How could he given up his life like that? Wasting away in his own petty borders while there was still a world out there to be had? What had become of the rest of the South? Guilt and regret added themselves to the churning pot of emotions bubbling away in his chest. How had he let everything go so unattended to? With a start he remembered the dreams and ambitions he had upon claiming the Copse, in contrast to his aimless existence he had been indulging lately. He needed to leave this place, before his idle thought became a reality. Now.

Gathering the power in his flanks, he almost sprang towards where the clearing would be, seeking the main path that would be his escape. The anxious energy that had coiled his muscles was briefly alleviated by a ridiculously vicious buck, which in turn caused him to snap a few twigs off a nearby tree due to the suffocating density of the forest. The chattering birds fell silent to the sound of Autolycus' hooves thumping the ground, at a much more urgent pace than they were accustomed to hearing. He fancied them watching him with a mildly cautious, casual gaze, whispering to each other what's with the strange beast? Is it something we should fear? The blackbirds and magpies had been barely passable companions for the past few weeks, some even with the courage to sit on his wither while he grazed. They were clearly no substitute for those of his own species, though, and all the social urges that had been strangely dulled over his hiatus had returned tenfold. What was of Samurai, his young friend whom last he heard had struck out on his own? Gideon, who with careful diplomacy convinced Autolycus to return young Amalthea to her home even after he had stolen her away? There were still so many out there he hadn't even met, never even laid eyes on.

He was past the clearing and onto the path out of his beloved woodlands; a log lay across the grassy trail. He cleared it with ease; however, to his slight surprise and embarrassment, he found himself already puffing, breath leaving his nose in snorts. In days gone by the stallion could have done multiple rings around the woodlands without tiring - it seemed his 'break' had taken a toll on his fitness. What would have happened if not for this break of clarity - would he have become soft and fat like one of the squirrels who had gorged themselves on spring food? It occurred to him that if indeed a challenger had come along that Autolycus may not have been able to win back leadership of the forest. He prided himself on his fighting skill, but a component of that was his vigour, which had clearly taken a turn for the worse. He would have to regain that in the days to come; he was not nearly old enough to have to resign himself to corpulence.

Despite his puffing, Auto did not slow his pace until he reach the mouth of the forest. The first few drops of rain fell gently on his head and back - or perhaps he hadn't been able to feel them until now due to the cover of the thicket. He had never thought the sight of the beach this magnificent, waves crashing, the dark clouds almost black offshore. He slowed to a trot onto very edge of the shore and stopped for a moment for breath, water rushing forward to lap at his hooves. The first twinges of trepidation began to affect Autolycus and he couldn't help but look at the now rather distant line of vegetation that had been his home for a long time now, sorrowful that he was to leave. It wasn't as if the place had been harsh and unforgiving like the Weaklands, and he had laid all his hopes and dreams on building himself a group of which he would lead there, maybe even a family of his own a little later on. Surely someone else would find it and claim it as their own, and Auto would be left without a home again - left to wander like those he would often endeavor to join him back in the Copse

But at this, his resolve hardened. No, he had spent enough time waiting for life to happen to him; now it was time for him to leave simple-minded comfort behind and find out what was happening in the South, and whether he could work back his way into a place where he could help. Perhaps he would return to Hyacinth Copse one day but for now, he had to leave, or be stuck there forever. With that, he turned his head and made his way down the beach, searching for somewhere, or someone, that might help to make him feel fulfilled again

notes; Autolycus has surrendered leadership of hyacinth copse (I know the boards have all been cleared already but thought this might be a good opportunity c:)