HOCKETY, POCKETY, WOCKETY, WACK
He was the one to ask, so why does he hesitate? The roan lingers a little longer than usual for one asking to be led. He was a bit worried about what he would see, all logic said the body would be long gone. Should be long gone, and if it wasn’t? He should be able to face that, shouldn’t he? He feels her muzzle brush his side, urging him to come with her. She would lead the way, and he would follow. For that, he was grateful.
They journey out, crossing the Dale and nearing the edges of their Kingdom. Weir remains quiet, thoughtful and perhaps a bit apprehensive as well. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, not after all they had been through. His ears pull forward as he follows her and she speaks, breaking the somewhat tense silence. Staying she advises him, and joining a caste as well. ”I am happy to hear that Iset. I am sure Talulah is most pleased as well, I’m glad you have made a decision.” He tells her these things, of how happy he was, how glad he is she had decided to say. All this before they file into a copse, low hanging branches brushing at the man’s skin.
It’s a tight fit, he knew the mare would have gone here for safety. A small opening where she could have some privacy, all while a good view of any who might interrupt it. He manages to squeeze in, but only just, there just wasn’t room for much else. The close proximity makes him a tad bashful, and he does his best to not invade her space too forwardly. He bends his neck to lower his russet head to the ground, sniffing at the forest floor. For what? He wasn’t sure, it just felt nice, and ease the ache in his chest some. ” Like me?” he whispers, unable to manage an octave higher. She goes on though, driving each stake into his heart, but at the same time releasing some stone that weighed it down. Forgetting himself he lifts his head, draping his long neck over her own. Holding her for the time because he thought he should, he knew he should and that he had failed to comfort her before. ”Thank you.”