It *is* her, all his long-ago daydreams and hesistant hopes brought to life in one single heart, beating away beneath one mare's moonlight-hued fur. Her muzzle touches his cheek, equally unsure in its gentleness, and his sightless eyes close in silent joy. A single tear escapes from beneath each eyelid, staining his ebony fur as they make their way to the ground beneath. All the fancy words, the structured sentences he had planned out in his mind should this moment of reunion ever occur with the intent of dazzling Misra, have now fled his mind now that he actually needs them. The Budyonny huffs out a quiet breath, deciding he's better off without them anyway. There was, after all, a very old and wise proverb that he'd heard before: Keep it simple, stupid.
"Yes, Misra....it's me. I'm so glad to have found you again. " After a moment of gathering up the threads of his courage, he leans in close to her, his ebony muzzle seeking out her delicate ear. The three words he'd tried, and failed before, to utter, now take on a life of their own as they are whispered with a desperate hope into the velvety little triangle. "I love you...." And in the aftermath of his admission, he stands silently, every inch of him hanging over the chasm of feared rejection, listening as intently as only a blind horse could do. Would she speak words that were an echo of his own? Did her feelings mirror his, or did they belong to another? He could not fault her if they did....they had been apart for years, and Misra was free to do as she pleased, of course. His heart is hammering so hard in his chest as he waits that he would not be surprised if the pegasus could hear its two-step tango.
Siberian
The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna