we are aching bones and wasted years; minette

[magnus]

He followed her. Of course he did. Magnus was not capable of keeping himself from the task. She had bid farewell, and he had waited several beats before ghosting into the shadows behind her—knowing full well that whatever had been watching them would watch him now, but also trusting in his ability to lose it on the way.

He stayed far enough back that she would not pick up on the pressing of his weight upon the ground, and he took care to avoid the sticks and branches that littered the path—thanking the heavens for the childhood spent tracking animals through the tangled jungle trails. His training served him well.

When he reached the herd land, he did not cross the border and instead watched from afar, gold-flecked eyes burning, the wind shifting the ink of his forelock across his wide, handsome forehead. She was safe, for now, he thought—although something in his gut burned. She may not be that way forever. There was no sign of Gryffen though, and that put him at ease, Magnus nodding to himself when he saw her meet up with the other mares inhabiting the land and then finally fall asleep. Only when she was still did he leave.

***

It was night when Magnus returned, but this time he did not return by land.

This time, he used the newfound gift for travel, the eagle wings spreading wide by his sides as he glided through the air silently. For an hour, he circled the herd land, dipping in and out of the shadows as the moon slanted through the clouds. He watched the quiet movements of the mares, and the foals, watching vigilantly for any sign of Gryffen. It was only when he was certain that the lead stallion was not there that he altered his path, falling quietly through the rolling fog to land silently near the outskirts of the herd where he saw Minette.

His smile was warm, mischievous, and his eyes flashed as he walked up to her quietly. “Minette,” her name was whiskey on his tongue, and his stomach tightened with pleasure knowing that she was still safe—that no harm had befallen her since their last time meeting. Without waiting, and without pretense, he made his way to her side and held her close, mouth resting gently on her poll for a second. “I am glad to see you again,” his voice was husky and quiet, spoken in hushed whispers between them. “How are you?”