07-05-2020, 10:27 AM
These were haunted plains for Santana. Memories stored in the blooms of darker times, of mistakes made. Certainly, he had not come here looking for peace. Closure might be as close as he got, but he'd take that. It was far more welcome than the numbing questions he'd been musing instead.
Dark as his thoughts were, they drifted softly away when Eyas approached. "That makes two of us," he rumbled in the darkness, head bobbing in greeting. At her second comment though he could only grimace. It was hard to separate the place from the memories. Still. The pegasus mare seemed enthralled with the surroundings, and he wanted to see them through those eyes, for a change.
It wasn't a long peace, however. Something ached in the woman's voice when she spoke again, despite the laughing tone. That he wasn't surprised when her voice broke didn't make it any less painful to hear. For one who tried to take on the world, she was strong. Stubborn. Occasionally to the point of pig-headedness. She was like his mother that way.
He couldn't watch her destroy herself the same way his dam had.
There was no thought when he unfolded a wing to embrace the quaking mare. She was so frail beside him, so very small. Held together with will power and pride. It was enough to exhaust anyone, as evidenced by the growing patch of dampness on his chest. How long had she been holding this in? Tana breathed softly, neck arched over hers until the tears slowed to a slower hiccuping.
When she pulled away he folded his wing back against his side, taking an unusually long time to resettle it while she composed herself. This was, he realized, uncharted territory.
For a stallion who had spent the majority of his adult life alone, taking on the problems of others did not come naturally. When the hollow feelings got too heavy, there was always a friendly mare who didn't seem to mind his inattentive ways to fill in the space for a while. In those cases, he was careful to keep things light. No deep feelings, no hard goodbyes. Catcher had been the sole exception in all these years, and he figured that had more to do with the lack of sexual energy between them than anything.
He couldn't claim the same thing with Eyas. Realizing that made his insides lurch. Habit said he should romance her and run, that he could justify it. Stress relief, right? It was too late, though. He knew it as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He was invested, both in the mission and in the mare baring her fears to him now.
He couldn't speak for a moment. Too long, maybe. He could only look at her, already pulling herself back together as if the world didn't weigh on her back. The pale stallion couldn't remember if he had ever cared about something the way she seemed to care about this self appointed task. Caring hurt. It was a hard lesson he had learned early.
"I don't..." He paused, coughing past tightness in his throat. "I don't think you're wrong to be scared." Shuffling awkwardly, he looked away. Stars shone brightly overhead, and he felt a little lighter looking at them. Sky lice, his mother used to call them. Don't fly too high, or they'll catch in your wings and make you fall. He half smiled at the old memory. "I'm glad though, that you'll let me- us- help you. I don't-" he grumbled, wondering where the right words were. Certainly not in his mouth.
His eyes fell from the heavens to settle on her once more. Sniffling, tear stained. And beautiful. "You won't be alone," he spoke, words like a sacred promise. One he swore silently to himself he would keep. He'd thrown away so much in his life. Avoided family and connection at every turn, because it never seemed to bring anything but heartache.
A grim voice wondered if she had done something while she had held his mind. Some kind of magic that made him want to ignore his need for solitude. That pit his feelings against his native mistrust. Another part of him didn't care if she had. He was setting himself up to do battle for this stubborn, impossible, brilliant mare, and that was something he wouldn't let himself regret.
@[Eyas]
Dark as his thoughts were, they drifted softly away when Eyas approached. "That makes two of us," he rumbled in the darkness, head bobbing in greeting. At her second comment though he could only grimace. It was hard to separate the place from the memories. Still. The pegasus mare seemed enthralled with the surroundings, and he wanted to see them through those eyes, for a change.
It wasn't a long peace, however. Something ached in the woman's voice when she spoke again, despite the laughing tone. That he wasn't surprised when her voice broke didn't make it any less painful to hear. For one who tried to take on the world, she was strong. Stubborn. Occasionally to the point of pig-headedness. She was like his mother that way.
He couldn't watch her destroy herself the same way his dam had.
There was no thought when he unfolded a wing to embrace the quaking mare. She was so frail beside him, so very small. Held together with will power and pride. It was enough to exhaust anyone, as evidenced by the growing patch of dampness on his chest. How long had she been holding this in? Tana breathed softly, neck arched over hers until the tears slowed to a slower hiccuping.
When she pulled away he folded his wing back against his side, taking an unusually long time to resettle it while she composed herself. This was, he realized, uncharted territory.
For a stallion who had spent the majority of his adult life alone, taking on the problems of others did not come naturally. When the hollow feelings got too heavy, there was always a friendly mare who didn't seem to mind his inattentive ways to fill in the space for a while. In those cases, he was careful to keep things light. No deep feelings, no hard goodbyes. Catcher had been the sole exception in all these years, and he figured that had more to do with the lack of sexual energy between them than anything.
He couldn't claim the same thing with Eyas. Realizing that made his insides lurch. Habit said he should romance her and run, that he could justify it. Stress relief, right? It was too late, though. He knew it as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He was invested, both in the mission and in the mare baring her fears to him now.
He couldn't speak for a moment. Too long, maybe. He could only look at her, already pulling herself back together as if the world didn't weigh on her back. The pale stallion couldn't remember if he had ever cared about something the way she seemed to care about this self appointed task. Caring hurt. It was a hard lesson he had learned early.
"I don't..." He paused, coughing past tightness in his throat. "I don't think you're wrong to be scared." Shuffling awkwardly, he looked away. Stars shone brightly overhead, and he felt a little lighter looking at them. Sky lice, his mother used to call them. Don't fly too high, or they'll catch in your wings and make you fall. He half smiled at the old memory. "I'm glad though, that you'll let me- us- help you. I don't-" he grumbled, wondering where the right words were. Certainly not in his mouth.
His eyes fell from the heavens to settle on her once more. Sniffling, tear stained. And beautiful. "You won't be alone," he spoke, words like a sacred promise. One he swore silently to himself he would keep. He'd thrown away so much in his life. Avoided family and connection at every turn, because it never seemed to bring anything but heartache.
A grim voice wondered if she had done something while she had held his mind. Some kind of magic that made him want to ignore his need for solitude. That pit his feelings against his native mistrust. Another part of him didn't care if she had. He was setting himself up to do battle for this stubborn, impossible, brilliant mare, and that was something he wouldn't let himself regret.
@[Eyas]