i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
There are new, jagged edges cutting through him. Edges not made of flesh or bone, but ones instead made of rage and regret. Rune lingers close, but even his presence cannot settle Reave. The eagle worries, but the stallion does not bother to notice. There would only be blame and recrimination in that worry, and he cannot face it. Not today. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
He’s not sure what had called him here, only that an undeniable urge had drawn him to the hollows and shadows of the forest. He can make little sense of the future flashing through his skull, nor does he even try. He might have once, not so very long ago. Might have focused on that and tried to tease the edges loose.
And then the world had cracked and split asunder beneath his hooves. Now he can only question everything he once knew.
Had he once thought he was bored? That he wanted nothing so much as to shake everything apart? Of course he had. Still does, in fact, but it is such a hard truth to reconcile. A dangerous truth. A reckless, wild, ill-conceived truth. He had somehow played a hoof in changing everything, yet he is not satisfied.
A cruel reality of his world. One he has yet to come to grips with.
It’s only when he sees her that he understands why he had come here. Perhaps it had been a dozen of the thousand futures taunting him to make it reality. Or perhaps it is mere coincidence and he is truly as much a fool as he believes himself to be. Nevertheless, the moment he sees her, something in him settles as he recognizes the inevitable.
Would she blame him? Would he even be able to tell just how at fault he is?
He can’t consider that. Not right now. Instead he allows a familiar crooked smile to tug at his lips. “Imagine finding you here.” His voice is low, a trace of familiar wicked humor threaded through it. “I hope this means you have no sharks to threaten me with today.”
reave
@revelrie