10-01-2015, 11:41 PM
All things are possible, even the worst of things.
He feels her shiver against him, a gentle, barely perceptible flutter of motion as her breath leaves her lungs on a sigh. He presses closer to her, brushing his muzzle softly against her cheek. Her strained features ease ever so slightly, the barest release of tension, but nonetheless gone. His heart aches in his chest as he gazes at her still tense features, wishing he could ease her pain further, wishing he could have been there for her. But he was not, could never be. He could only be here now, offering what little comfort a stranger may.
She tells him just a little more, the tiniest bits and pieces of what had happened to her home. The shame and regret are there, in her words, in her tone, her body. Even as the words she speaks tell a story of a terrible and relentless foe, what she leaves unspoken tells so much more.
There is no shame in your actions. Why would doom yourself to death when you could live to fight another day? To prepare yourself, to become even stronger than they?
Stretching his muzzle, he nudges gently at her cheek, silently encouraging her to lift her head, to see the truth of his words in his eyes. If there is anyone who could understand her feelings of inadequacy, it is he. He is as plain and ungifted as she, his only discerning feature a missing tail. But that does not mean he is powerless. And neither is she. Supernatural abilities are not what make a horse. And if they are, then, well, they are not much of a horse, are they?
Do you believe that they will keep this secret? The attackers? It strikes me that they will want to crow about this from the mountaintops.
He smiles at her then, charmed by her integrity. Sadly it is something so few have, even in his home that had once been considered the epitome of light and goodness. But it shines from her, a purity that he hopes she will allow no one to taint. He cannot claim to be half so good.
It is fortunate then that I have so few secrets.
His dark eyes shutter briefly as she presses into him, delicate frame warm against his skin, her cheek against his shoulder. It is true, they are strangers, acquainted for only a short span of time. But she does not feel like a stranger. No, she feels like an old friend, one he has not seen for ages. He wonders if she feels it too. He hopes so.
As her words tremble across the air, he tucks his large head, pressing his dark muzzle against the ash dusted skin of her shoulder. He wishes that he could give her that feeling of safety. But with the horrific violation against her home still lingering on her dark coat, he doubts even his most earnest efforts would be enough to make her feel safe. Not for a long time to come.
He returns her smile with a faint one of his own, one tinged by sadness. He voices none of his previous thoughts, but what he does tell her is nothing less than the truth.
You make me miss my family.
She tells him just a little more, the tiniest bits and pieces of what had happened to her home. The shame and regret are there, in her words, in her tone, her body. Even as the words she speaks tell a story of a terrible and relentless foe, what she leaves unspoken tells so much more.
There is no shame in your actions. Why would doom yourself to death when you could live to fight another day? To prepare yourself, to become even stronger than they?
Stretching his muzzle, he nudges gently at her cheek, silently encouraging her to lift her head, to see the truth of his words in his eyes. If there is anyone who could understand her feelings of inadequacy, it is he. He is as plain and ungifted as she, his only discerning feature a missing tail. But that does not mean he is powerless. And neither is she. Supernatural abilities are not what make a horse. And if they are, then, well, they are not much of a horse, are they?
Do you believe that they will keep this secret? The attackers? It strikes me that they will want to crow about this from the mountaintops.
He smiles at her then, charmed by her integrity. Sadly it is something so few have, even in his home that had once been considered the epitome of light and goodness. But it shines from her, a purity that he hopes she will allow no one to taint. He cannot claim to be half so good.
It is fortunate then that I have so few secrets.
His dark eyes shutter briefly as she presses into him, delicate frame warm against his skin, her cheek against his shoulder. It is true, they are strangers, acquainted for only a short span of time. But she does not feel like a stranger. No, she feels like an old friend, one he has not seen for ages. He wonders if she feels it too. He hopes so.
As her words tremble across the air, he tucks his large head, pressing his dark muzzle against the ash dusted skin of her shoulder. He wishes that he could give her that feeling of safety. But with the horrific violation against her home still lingering on her dark coat, he doubts even his most earnest efforts would be enough to make her feel safe. Not for a long time to come.
He returns her smile with a faint one of his own, one tinged by sadness. He voices none of his previous thoughts, but what he does tell her is nothing less than the truth.
You make me miss my family.
shahrizai
hestoni x scorch