and I discovered that my castles stand
upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
He half expects her to wither and die as he watches – how often do children need to eat? Is it more frequently than adults? – but she steps toward the clover he’s gestured at with a look of determination that is uncannily similar to Texas’ own. She’s probably his, he thinks as she begins to eat; her mother had probably left her here thinking that he’d take care of her.
A horrible assumption, of course, but now that she’s here he can’t very well track down her mother and force her to take her back.
Well, he could, but that would require effort that he’s not inclined to exert.
Texas hadn’t corrected her when she’d called him Mama the first time, and it appears that the name seems to have stuck. “My name is Texas,” he tells her, “not Mama.” It’s probably a futile effort, so there’s not much force behind his words, and he swallows them up as she snuggles into his chest. This is not the first time he’s had a child press themselves against him, but it’s the first time in decades. With the waterfall behind them, he’s reminded suddenly – and painfully – of his passel of tow-headed children splashing in the water as he and Believer looked on.
The world had been a safer place for children then; the only danger was the wolves that lurked beyond the borders. These days there is danger everywhere, hiding behind smiling faces and gathering in force in kingdoms preparing for war. He could leave, he knows, let Beqanna settle itself the way it always has without him. But he looks down at the white-haired filly pressed against his chest and realizes that if he leaves she’ll be left entirely alone. He doesn’t love her – how can he when he’s only just met her? – but the thought of pushing her gently into the river and watching her drift away is suddenly far less appealing.
This is why it’s best to not think of the past, he tells him and he bends down and roughly tousles the filly’s mane. “Yes, this is home. This is the Dazzling Waterfall.”
texas
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