"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
His mother had also been sick with love, sick with her unwavering obsession for Magnus even though it had never been returned. She had followed him like a whipped puppy, it had been rather pathetic. It was only out of pity that he had been produced. Of course he had never known this, had not known the pain his mother had brought on herself as well as that of Magnus’s lover which is why they had been casted from the Gates. Those stories were long ago and had little effect in the world now. But maybe he would have used them to further the reasoning of his tumultuous and unhappy life. Maybe he deserved all of it after all. The rest of his family and ancestors had been strong and confident but it seemed all it took was one weak link to destroy it all.
There is a moment, a brief one but it exists, when she mentions that she has no home. A moment where he thinks of taking Adaline back to the Gates with him. To have someone who seems as lost as he is, someone to protect and take care of. Something close to a sense of family and a reason to live. He could help his new friend, maybe find someone who could mend her wings. Who could make her fly. It’s a fast thought that rapidly bounces around his brain but he says nothing about it, knowing how crazy it sounds. As if she needed him, this ghost of a man who can barely take care of himself. Then she would know his secrets, would see how he couldn’t sleep. Realize that he was the true freak.
However the thought won’t go away and starts to manifest into something bigger, refusing to disappear. ”So you live here?” He asks gently. He can’t recognize the smell of the Falls, having been so long since he’s gone anywhere besides here and the Gates. The Dale and the Beach are the only other places he can recall but both hold too much damage. It’s where his nightmares had begun with the very first breath he ever took. He refuses to think of himself anymore, thinking of her instead. Living in the Meadow must be hard. She was such a fragile thing, anything could happen to her out here. ”I live in the Gates currently. I just returned really..” A pause, hesitation as he summons the courage to even ask her the smallest of offers. ”You should come visit me sometime. See if you like it.”
your breath is poison; your breath is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
Her knowledge of the land she had been born in is weak at best—something that should be truly shameful. Both her parents had been nomads (a gracious word) and did not tie themselves to one kingdom or another—not even a herd. She herself had been born in the meadow right before her parents had both walked into the ocean, filling their lungs with saltwater and slipping into eternal sleep. It had been her and her equally fragile brother pressed up against one another, and so it seemed he had been the only structure she had ever seen in her entire life. The only constant, except, of course, when she had abandoned him.
So she does not know what the Gates looks like (has never even heard of it before today, if she was being honest). But it sounds lovely, and she enjoyed lovely things; even more, she enjoyed places where she did not have to fear that she would run across her. It was a stressful situation for someone so fragile to live in constant terror of what she might see unwelcome during her day-to-day life. And, despite the fact that she was steeling herself for the first encounter, she feared in heart heart of hearts that she would not handle it well.
“Can we go see it now?” she asks quietly, looking up from behind her forelock, the moonlight spilling over the two of them. Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced down at the ground, frowning. “Sorry, that is probably silly.” She forces a soft laugh and shrugs her shoulders, “I have just never seen it before. I have seen so little of this land.” Her expression falls a little. “I’d like to see it before…” here, her voice trails off because she cannot bear to say ‘I die.’ She knows she doesn’t have a long time to live, cannot possibly live for years with death constantly nipping at her heels, and yet she cannot stand to face the truth of it.
Perhaps her parents lay next to his father for he too succumbed to the salt water in his lungs. Helped along by a murderous hand of course. The injustice of it still hard to bare. Unaware of her lack of knowledge when it comes to kingdoms, he might worry that she would find his home boring and quiet. Compared to the others it was not quite bustling with activity but this doesn't bother him. He rather likes the peace, he likes the silence. The other horses so far were kind and gracious. It’s not like the Gates his father had known, it’s not the Gates he had stepped into when he first decided to call it home. It’s changed quite a bit but the warm fuzzy vibe it gave to those that sought it out as sanctuary.. That never changed.
Surprise that she wants to come see it is followed quickly by a warm feeling that spreads from his chest down to his hooves. She wants to go with you…” It evaporates a bit when she trails off, those unspoken words lingering just as loudly as if she had shouted them. ”That’s not going to happen.” So sure in his words, defiant that such a thing could happen to her. He would not allow it. In the short amount of time they had known each other he had gone from being creeped out by her to feeling strangely protective of her. It was kind of nice, caring about someone’s well being more than your own. ”But I would love for you to see it. Right now!” He comes closer to her side, his muzzle ever so gently touching the side of her neck in an encouraging manner. ”I’ll lead the way.”
