Moonspear leaves from the vine

Sighting the figure of Osiris approaching his spot, the dark yearling moved a few inches to allow for his brother to sit comfortably. The shade reached with a probing nose, searching his sibling’s ruff with a few prods and taking in the scents of the journey that still lingered in his cloak. It was good to have the green-eyed figure home, on the mountain where he was needed. It was the first time since Osiris had left that Atlas found himself feeling more at ease, less wary of what laid beyond the borders of their safe home.
 
’This rain needs to end.’
 
The sound of his voice pulled Atlas from his thoughts. He glanced toward his sibling and lowered his muzzle in a nod. “How was your journey?” the shadow inquired with a curious glint to his lamplight stare. Osiris appeared in good health as far as could be seen with a few glances, but Atlas could feel something different about his brother. He felt older somehow, which left the young boy with a strange mixture of emotions that ended on melancholy.