She should never have gotten sick. She should never have been allowed to wander where the infection spreads.
Her stubborn little feet planted firmly and he nudged her again, making her sway. The illness was toying with her mind, her eyes blinking and glazed and hazy. He rumbled again, displeasure swelling in his chest. She would be bathed if he had to carry her the rest of the way there. He was stubborn too.
He lowered his head and pawed the earth, thump-dragging a solid hoof in frustration. His nose was there to catch her the moment she stumbled, gently setting her right again and resuming his relentless pushing. She spoke again, more nonsense that he ignored. He wasn't going to get attached. She was not meant for him. It didn't matter how that tiny nose pressing against his leg made his foolish heart flip then ache in long-buried memories.
"Walk," he growled harshly, giving her another shove forward. It was fortunate the shallow creek had not been far, and he forced her the remaining distance however he must, letting her tumble this time when he knew she would land soundly in trickling waters.
His amber-gold eyes in a dark face stared down at her for a long moment, indifferent. She was not his responsibility. It was not him that should be doing this. And yet there he was, taking a step forward and drenching his nose, scrubbing it across her bloody coat to slowly reveal the black and deep auburn beneath. Each pass was not particularly gentle, he was not a particularly gentle man.
And yet, the lineage of a king, he thought without humor.
And instead bathing a stranger's child in a world that had long forgotten his name.
"Rise," he commanded. So that he could examine her for that snake bite and survey her injuries. She was not his responsibility. He would have to find her parents somehow or pass her off to the wolf. Leaving his self-imposed isolation did not interest him. He kept it for a reason.
I've been on a long road with the devil right beside me
ainlif
rising with the morning sun; it’s a hunger that drives me