10-25-2018, 01:50 AM
THERE'S A HOLE IN MY HEART
and I don't know why
He had followed her to Hell, and he would be a poor, damned soul if he didn't follow her back. Rocinante would travel the ends of the world for the sapphire mare with the sun in her hair. The goliath had crossed the wastes of Pangea once to be with Raeg'n, stood toe to toe with the demon that plagued her, and stood with her when it fell. She had been there for him when his bones cracked and feathers fell as the land changed once again. He had watched her silent grief, her panic, after they had drug their broken bodies from the surf where Pangea had once stood and the boy had not followed them. Rocinante had spent days trying to find the midnight mare, The beautiful creature that had given him life again, given him purpose. When they had reunited, her by wasn't there. They had spent so long searching for the little Grulla boy, waited so long for the slightest sign.
But Kilter didn't come back, and it was his fault.
Rocinante blamed himself for the boy's disappearance, after all wasn't it he who had told the boy to stay put? They were playing hide and seek, Kilter was staying safe so Rocinante could focus on protecting Raeg'n. It was supposed to end. Instead he had torn the mare from the one she cared for most. The stallion had played at protector and failed. The rage and grief had torn through him, and he had not the voice to scream.
If only he had kept him closer.
If only he had gotten to her faster.
If only.
When the call to Pangea comes it almost feels like a blessing, a second chance. Almost.
FIND HIM
KILL HIM
The words ring and the images echo between the titan's ears. The unmistakable call of the dark god that had given birth to the unholy land once again. Flashes of the unassuming chestnut with a seal etched across his skin send Rocinante seeking the eyes of his companion. But he can see that she has already made up her mind. Without words his strides match hers in pace as they cross the lands, and pause in their search of the missing Kilter, to answer the call.
She is determined, a single-mindedness etched in each stretch of muscle, in each thump of hoof on dirt. Rocinante is powerless to stand against her, to bar the way towards a path that surely spells their destruction. No good comes of playing with gods.
They crest the hill and the scent of death, of blood and sweat, of battle, assails their nostrils. Churned, damp earth encircles the frenzy of horses clashing over the fate of the chestnut stallion. It is a riot. It is primal. A battle that for many falls into the grey areas of morality. Some heal, most hinder, and Rocinante has made up his mind. His warm brown eyes seek Raeg'n's and he finds her already watching him, waiting. He wishes he could apologize for all he had done and all he was about to do, but alas, his heart in his eyes will have to do. He bows low before the beautiful midnight mare before charging into the fray.
He quickly picks up speed as he races into the thick of the fight using his gargantuan size to his advantage against the others, pushing them out of the way and clearing a space near Rhonen. The mighty titan lashed out against any that came near the chestnut stallion, clipping the assailants with massive hooves and snapping teeth. He would defend Rhonen from those that wished him dead. It was his path to redemption, to his righteous heart, and perhaps the only way he knew how to achieve atonement for failing the one he loved.
Rocinante | Blue Roan | Belgian Draft | Stallion