Set
" There's a black bird perched outside my window, I hear him calling. I hear him sing. He burns me with his eyes of gold to embers. He sees all my sins. He reads my soul. "
Her laughter follows him into the snow-covered forest, the echo of it tinkling like icicles striking one another. Flakes of the white stuff still fall gently from the sky, sticking to his lashes, drawn now and again into his lungs with heaving breaths. He is not as fit as he thought he was, arrogance and confidence in his past prowess perhaps undermining reality. Chuckling, he spins away from the smooth deception of a snow-covered pond, long limbs twisting underneath him, impossibly agile as he clears a fallen tree. Just as suddenly as he'd started, he stops, dark haunches tucking beneath him, hocks disappearing into a drift of snow as he jolts to a halt. He cannot hear her anymore, only the gentle murmur of voices. It's been a long time - decades, centuries, perhaps - since the piebald found himself lost in matters that did not matter. It's a freeing feeling, this cold nakedness, this return to what he once was. The child his mother had been - can be - proud of ...
Shaking away the ache that thoughts of Starlace always bring, he wheels back in the direction he had come, his mouth twisted in a wide grin.
He ducks into the thick copse he'd rounded earlier, where the trees are so close together he must concentrate on slipping through them, sides grasped by bark and bough alike. The sodden earth shudders with every stride, the thick mat of pine needles and dead leaves holding the ice and snow at bay, here where the evergreens shelter the forest floor. The trunks of the trees flash by as he twists and turns around them, muscles burning brilliantly. He can hear her coming, ears ringing with her playful war cry and with a shout of raspy laughter he streaks in front of her, just a hairsbreadth out of reach. His skunk tail whipping smartly, he stretches his neck out, the sunset-stamped mare hot on his heels.
He can feel himself tiring, his second wind flagging. He does not know how long she chases him, doggedly refusing to give up her pursuit, catching every grin and taunting word he throws back at her. It is a second, maybe two, later that she touches him, a brush of her satin muscle on bunched hindquarters. The contact sends a jolt through his gut and he stumbles, the rotting vegetation beneath him gives way and he slips, grunting with the effort it takes to regain his balance. Sides heaving, gold meets amber, his wild grin matching her breathless one. The touch had unsettled him but the emotion is well-hidden, unnoticed as she peels away, her now-familiar fragrance hung heavily in the air as she charges upwind.
Their merry chase brings them back, near the spot where they had first met - a spot, unbeknownst to him now, that he will never forget. He had almost reached her a handful of times; could have if he were being honest, but in light of being honest, he rather enjoyed the view from behind. Chest flecked with foam, dead leaves, and slush, he jerks to a halt near the porcelain mare, momentarily distracted from his chase.
"You look terrible."
SET
alliance champion, once king, magician