Somewhere in the distance the sun is beginning to rise. The navy blue of the canopy over head will soon be tinted with soft shades of lavender, the purple dawn between night and day. Djinni has always liked the dawn, but tonight she finds she does not care for the reminder of passing time.
She, who has always lived for chaos, does not want things to change.
The black stallion has said – signed – that he will help their son. Djinni cannot fathom what that sort of raising will be; she’s not even entirely sure what her hand in parenting will be. Will Ivar even need her? Or will those sharp teeth she’d felt as he nursed pull him too quickly from her side? The uncertainty is grating, and acknowledging that truth is even more abrasive.
Ivar shifts between them, dreaming. Djinni looks down and presses her muzzle to his pied shoulder to quiet him, and he’s soon lost in deeper sleep.
When she looks up, it’s to find Stilwater looking back and for a moment she cannot meet his gaze. When she does, it is only because he says what she has been waiting to here, when he reminds her that this is all her fault. ’you know I am here. Always here. Nowhere else.’ Of course he is here. This is where she brought him, where she bound him, where he has no choice. She is ready to send him back, to use what little bit of power she’s regained while resting to shove him back into that dark Nerenian cave. The anger will be enough to quell the guilt, and the satisfaction of boarding him in with stone will smother the pain.
She is ready – she’s even drawn the breath to say it aloud because she has never pretended to be a truly good person – when he looks away and speaks again.
Were she not well-raised she’d be gaping, the way he throws his captivity at her only moments before telling her that he doesn’t want to stay away. This is why she has never tried, never given in tHere are too many emotions, too many thoughts, too many everything.
Without realizing it, she’s standing, leaving Ivar tucked beside his father as she leans over them. She’d not meant to get away, only to give herself space, but the scowl on her grullo face doesn’t quite clarify that. “What do you want?” She asks, since he has told her what he doesn’t want. Djinni knows the answer that she wants, but she has never been especially good at restraint, and especially not when it comes to Stillwater. “You don’t want to stay away, but do you really want to stay? Or do you want to go back, back to Nerine, to Nayl? Or do you want Luster, or the water, or something to eat?”
There is no judgment in her eyes, only frustration and jealousy. Djinni does not like this realization that her happiness is tied to something not herself; she does not like the lack of control.