Standing alone upon his ledge he watched with an unfeeling gaze. He can’t help but think upon their first meeting upon a mountain similar to the one he now stood. He’d been overtaken by her beauty, though he found her wits at the time to be somewhat lacking. She’d made good company at the time and, now, she fulfilled his true purpose. Sheltered by the shadow of the mountain his figure remained completely from the view. Startled slightly his eyes fall upon a cream stallion as he rushes to aid in Ilma’s struggle. A moment of jealous erupts in him as he considered the intruder. Who was he to think that he belonged in this moment. A moment that should have been reserved to them.
Arithmetic can hear the stallion’s voice as his all too obvious question breaks the silence of their surroundings. Forcing his attention back onto Ilma he watches as her belly writhed and wriggle, the force of his child within pushing urgently. The child was ready, Arithmetic could sense it. For a moment he considered climbing down to her, to express his fatherly right. Instead he felt his feet carry him swiftly backwards. It was time for him to leave. She would do fine without him and, perhaps, one day when the child was older he would pay a visit. He knew, without a shadow of the doubt, that their child would be stronger. Stronger than he ever could be.
Perhaps that was the point. To create something stronger and better and, thus, insuring a legacy that would never falter or fade.
