There is an intriguing coiling of muscle beneath her scarred black pelt, as if he needed any further evidence that the nothing from which she was fleeing had truly and deeply frightened her. He looks into her face as she tells him reluctantly about this fear following her. Her words cut off short but he does not press her to continue. Instead he returns to inspecting her sweaty side, absently grooming her about the withers without any indication he cares or is considering what she has said. When he is satisfied with his work he stretches his neck and lays his great head over her back with a sigh.
“So something happened to you and you run from it even though it’s over.” He says, at last replying, words heavy. Something is happening to her right now and she is not running. He feels the vibration of her fear, the ancient desire to flee or fight, but she stands under his touch like a paralyzed deer. “Why do you run from it? Why don’t you stand your and see what happens?” He asks then, sweeping his chin along the length over her spine like his brushing away and itch, pressing at her tolerance, prodding at her ability to stand here and bear his questions and inconsiderate touch.
He does want to know how the flight begins, what takes her from whatever place she normally roams and sends her blindly fleeing into the night. She could break herself that way, though chasing her down would be a pleasure, he didn’t like his things ruined. Briseis already counts among his things.
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves
as though we were drowning inside our hearts
@[Briseis] Okay so it is horrid, but I really wanted to get him out. <3
