[private] lost to the way we were

[sochi]

sochi

The other mare looks at death with a reverence Sochi can understand. It is one of the simplest things in the world for her to understand—to truly know. In some ways, she’s carried it with her for her entire life. She’s worn is heavy across her shoulders. Felt the weight of it in her chest like stones. She’s known what it means to battle with it, to give into it, to command it. She has known all angles of it, to become it.

She no longer fears death the way that she used to.

Neither does she worship it.

Still, she understands that which flashes across the mare’s face and when she asks to come closer, she gives a brisk nod of her head—nearly dismissive in the casual way that she flicks her chin. At the question, she laughs, although the sound is not as dismissive as the motion. It is throaty as she rolls her feline shoulders and then, finally, shifts back into her equine form. The blood still runs down her chin and the feral look does not dim in the silver eyes anymore than it had in the yellow eyes of the tigress.

“I’m not sure you need me to explain it,” she finally says, the husk of her voice, her eyes moving to Jude’s and holding the gaze steady. “I am no less a predator like this than I was before.”

Sochi learned long ago that she did not need the heavy paws of the tiger to wear the title.

“You do not strike me as prey.”

well, I can try to get you closer but I know you’d break your neck just to see the stars
and if we don’t dare to hold it then this reckless wandering love was never ours