11-17-2019, 11:13 AM
----------------kiss me until i can't speak
He’s been following her.
It’s not something he’d usually do, but Pteron had been lost in thought, floating on the spring thermals above the meadow. As invisible as the wind that keeps his wings aloft, he’d been looking down at the little dots of color that are the horses below him. There are as many blues and greens and purples as there are browns and chestnuts, and for every horse without a visible trait there are three with something. It is the addax horns that had caught his attention. Pteron spirals lower, his wings as silent as those of the snowy owl they most resemble. They look like Mandan’s horns, Pteron thinks, and he has not seen their like since he left the Pampas four years ago.
Perhaps the dusty mare below him is a relative he thinks, perhaps she might even know Wander. So he follows her, his aerial view making identifying her impossible, trying to decide if it is worth engaging a stranger in conversation.
In the end, he decides that it is not, not when there are other things that he should be doing, not when he has wasted enough time circling the meadow. He lets the wind pull him back up again, up and north. Pteron glances over his shoulder one last time, knowing it is foolish to do so, and that is when he recognizes her. From this angle, that the apricot mare is Wander is undeniable. She is older, and time has shaped her face into something different, yet there is no mistaking her. He lands before he really thinks about it, and becomes visible with a laugh, cantering across the open field between them, calling: “Wander! Wander!” as he does.
Pteron slows just enough to avoid knocking her over, but he does bump against her, wrapping his piebald neck over hers in an enthusiastic greeting. “What’re you doing here? I thought…” It doesn’t matter what he thought, and he pulls back to grin at her. She is a little dusty, more than a little unkempt, but that does not bother Pteron. “I’m so glad to see you.” The stallion presses a kiss to her cheek, as free with them as he is with any form of affection. “I’ve missed you.”
@[Wander]
-- pteron --