They had parted ways like many pairs do. It was the way of the Swamp, to meet, to part, to meet again. A determined traveler, stopping only to eat and rest, not to see and to feel pleasure, could easily traverse the entire Swamp many times in a lifetime--it was big enough that you could easily meet another kin only once, but small enough that to meet again was also common. Unless there was some great tragedy, they would meet again; Amber was sure. Kiokote and Acha, the two bloodlines that ran through his vein, were herd-kin, yet it was the Kimeti way to wander. There was no inciting incident, just a change in the wind.It was simply time for them to part.
He was determined to leave at least a final gift with her for this first coming together, for their children to come. He carried with him an offering for the first legendary he could find: two large shells with holes bound together with a vine that, when shook, revealed that it was filled with clear crystals. It hung by a loop of vine from his mouth. Now, it was just a matter of finding a legendary to gift this craft to.
Suddenly, a voice as if in the air, but not at all, "What is it you have there?"
Amber looked around, but couldn't see the voice's source. Setting the shells down, he called out, "A gift for the right kin."
"Tell me, what makes a kin right?" the voice questioned, amused. Amber tried not to get too excited, but he was fairly sure he had found a legendary.
He leaned down to take up the vine in his mouth once again. He quickly walked to the nearest patch of sunlight and found a suitable branch, low enough to reach when he reared back on his hind legs. Doing just that, managed to sling the vine over the branch so that when he let go, the two shells hung together, swaying in the air. It was immediately apparent what he had created; the light entered the two shells through the holes in the top was scattered into rainbows by the crystals held within so that shimmering dots of light danced on the ground on the tree trunk. "I think you might be right right kin."
"You think?" And suddenly, she was there with her unnaturally bright glowing eyes: a legendary.
"Yes, I do think so," Amber answered. Then he dipped into a bow, "An acceptable gift, I hope. Something plain on the outside, revealed by the light to be something brilliant."
The mare laughed then answered, serene, "Usually I ask for something different, but this is more than beautiful and interesting enough. It will create many stories for the future."
"May your children be healthy and clever, capable of seeing more than what is obvious." And with that, in a strange unwatchable blur, she was a cheetah on the branch and then a mare once more on ground, vine securely in her mouth. Then she was gone.