there was something in the water, now that something's in me
i can't go back, but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips
Texas has only ever done what all men do; there is no shame in infidelity. He has never made promises – if only to be able to say that he has never broken them – and has never seen the need to. He is king again, and is so close to losing count of the crowns he has worn. This one has always been the most comfortable, the crown of the Falls, but is comes with less pleasant side effects than the others. He has history here, history that despite the passing time has never quite faded the way that he wants it to. His deaths echo especially loudly here, and when Sparrow squeals happily the sound is too much like those copper-haired children that he has tried to forget.
He sees Prague, but since he often does pays her no heed. She is not really there – it is just a flash of sunlight against the quartz in the granite falls.
She doesn’t usually speak though, and he turns back to where he had seen her. She is still there, silver and black, and she is looking directly at him. The tempest of emotions that begins to spiral is a familiar, though uncomfortable one. The knowledge that it will only last a while, that it will disappear as soon as she does, makes it easier to bear. And she always disappears.
“Did they finally kick you out of the Jungle?” He asks with a wry grin as he draws near, taking her in and finding that she has not changed at all. Texas, the immortal, has changed, and the grey that streaks his black mane and peppers his mahogany face have not always been there. Though his immortality had returned along with the magic in the waterfall, there are some things that cannot go backwards. “I suppose we could take you in as a refugee, though you’d have to work hard so I know you’re worth the effort.”
Along with the irritation, dislike, and annoyance, there has never been a shortage of desire in what the bay stallion feels for the grey mare. He does love her – though would quibble the differences between loving and being in love. They have never really been in love; there was no blossoming courtship and passionate vows in the Story of Texas and Prague. They had simply been present often and enough in each other’s lives that the inevitable happened.
texas
