"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Cerva doesn’t know which is more painful: the contractions wracking her body or the fact that she is abandoned and alone. Her heart has already crumbled into thousands of pieces, but now it isn’t just emotional pain, but physical. Every fiber of her body and soul are quivering under weight of what she has lost and what she no longer is.
As a child, she had been a princess. She had parents and she had brothers, but they all disappeared.
For a brief while, she had a home in the Valley, then eventually the Gates, but the Reckoning took away both kingdoms.
She had companionship through Longear and Magnus, but they have since moved on with their lives while Cerva remained behind and groveled.
Dovev was her happiness, but alas, that joy came to a close with a door slamming in her face.
Now, there is this child she has been conceiving for months. What should bring elation only brings personal destruction.
A rattled breath chases another stabbing contraction that forces her to her knees. She was successful only in reaching the treeline so that she may be away from prying eyes. She wants herself forgotten, this birth just another in this bitter world. Years ago, Cerva had anticipated that her first child would be borne into a loving family so that she could give it what she always lacked and wanted. Once upon a time, Cerva had high hopes and aspirations for her life, but she was never destined for any of that.
Pain. Heartbreak. Abandonment. Rejection.
Those are the only things she knows. Growing up in the shadow of her family only to face one tormenting obstacle after another. This hard world could never strengthen Cerva; it only weakened her bit by bit. This is her breaking point as she lies down in the leaves and lets nature take its course. The pain of giving birth is nothing like having lost Dovev, she muses as her eyes shut in agony.
Blood and fluid pools around her hindquarters. Her skin is soaked, but when a leg shifts she can feel the small body lying there quietly. For a fleeting moment, Cerva considers standing and leaving without even a glance back to see what she has given birth to, but her heart – although shattered – is still far too large to ever let her run from this. An exhausted sigh slips through her pursed lips as she rises and turns to look at the piebald resting in the grass. The child’s ears swivel curiously as her muzzle lifts to the air to suck in her first large breath of air. A feeble smile shadows Cerva’s pretty face, but sorrow immediately paints over as she truly sees her daughter for the first time.
There are no eyes, only empty sockets that twitch with unnecessary nerves. A chill runs down the length of Cerva’s spine, but she still steps forward and croons to the child before touching her damp coat. ”You will be Atrani,” her voice is barely above a whisper as her nose glides toward the foal’s ears, ”and you will never see the bitter horrors of this world.” Weak and exhausted, Cerva lies back down and rests her head on the newborn – the painful reminder she is forced to live with – and watches as the world flies by.
01-23-2017, 01:43 AM (This post was last modified: 01-23-2017, 02:10 AM by Zoryn.)
Do something.
Zoryn
He burns with it, his rage. Like a never ending storm on his mind and soul- if he has one of those. But he must, for he had let himself succumb to the dark desires that had awakened one day when all he'd sought was pain (given and received). He'd found so much more. More than he could ever have imagined he'd want. And then it was over all too soon. One day together, and together they had come, in so many delicious ways. The next day, gone. He'd let him go, sated and spent. But when his urges rose once more, where had he found him? Atop this lovely bay mare now giving birth in the meadow. All those months ago, he had seen them. The twisting, clawing fingers of jealousy had wreaked havoc on his mind, but he'd made himself come to terms he must share the man. Never had he realized how many others he must share with, however. And never had he expected to be received with such blank awareness. He'd gone to find him once more, only to find him changed in so many ways. The same man, but oh so different. And he'd forgotten him. There was never a more unpleasant pain than that moment. The vile sting of rejection when he'd tried to make him remember. But Dov had fought him. The bastard. And he'd left him with a pretty little thing with peacock drapes.
After, he'd found Dovev's dear Cerva. Here in the meadow, carrying her precious cargo bestowed upon her by the bastard who'd forgotten her, too. Alone, deep in her weary thoughts, wrapped in sadness of her abandonment. He'd let her smell Dovev on his coat, made her believe it was for better reasons than the horrid rejection he'd been given instead. It had amused him at first, her pain and anguish over being apart from Dovev. That was, until Zor realized just how much he and Cerva had in common. Only thing was that while the mare wept in silence, Zoryn seethes. He rages. Burns. He is anxious. Restless. In horrible need for action. And then it's happening, right before his eyes. Cerva's water breaks and the baby is coming. All thoughts leave the dun tobiano's mind, all but one. Get Dovev and bring his ass here. Alone, he could not restore the man's memories. But with Cerva... his one. His young obsession. With her, surely it would be done.
Knowing what he must do, he spins on his ass and takes off like lightning, crashing through the tall grasses and anyone who stands in his way. He barrels through the trees, ears twitching and nostrils seeking. He'd been heading north, to the land his stalking had led him to the knowledge of his wherabouts in Ischia. But lucky for him, he hadn't needed to go that far. His scent, Zoryn would know it anywhere, reaches him from the west, and he changes course. Hooves strike the ground like thunder in the sky, ears flatten as he realizes once again that the bastard is not alone. At his speed and agility as he darts through the trees, Zoryn reaches the Forest in no time. He finds the two of them in much less. A low sound emits from his throat, escalating into some insane roar as he crashes through the brush and shoves Dovev off and away from the crimson and brown woman, hopefully into a tree if he is caught by surprise.
Like some wild animal, Zoryn lowers his neck level to his spine, head curled inward and brown and amethyst eyes flashing pure fire at both him and his new pet. Another pretty thing. His movements are slow and methodical, nostrils flared, teeth bared as he steps away to view them both. Scarier if he'd had fangs, but these aren't details he's concerned with. Seeing them together, Dovev and this.. Her. Nestled together so sweetly, touching so tender. His inner beast snarls and paces, swiping claws at his mind. It drives him mad with rage. He can't stand it anymore. "You don't even know WHAT you're playing with. YOU should be the one afraid." He regards the woman, young and innocent in her grace, eyes glazed with newfound lust. Well, Zoryn would see that she knows what kind of monster hides under all that sweet and tender. Disgusting, foul even, this facade Dov has donned. He spins around, the motion quick as a whip, to regard the man who'd driven him to this. Snarling beast. "You. This is where I find you. All this time and all you can do is surround yourself with pretty toys. While you forget who and what you are. What you've left behind. How could you forget." His words are like dripping venom from his lips, his rage laced into every word. His pain giving them an edge. He steps closer, daring. Uncaring if the other lashes out at him. Craves it, even. "Do you smell her on me, Dovev? Your precious Cerva. Or have you so easily forgotten her too. Do all those you play with become nothing once you have your way with them? Fuck them and then leave to find another toy?" He is pacing now, eyes never leaving the blackness of Dovev's. His words taunting and full of implications. He wants the woman behind to hear him, hopes they burn her ears and make her feel like the scum he has made Cerva feel. The pain he feels. But he doesn't turn to look, his attention never leaving his intended target.
It is boiling over in him, this rage. Even now, though, his mouth thirsts to taste him, his body aches to feel him against him. Even though his appearance has changed, he still wants him. He has to accept that it may never again be answered. May never again be received. But if it is one thing he will do today, it will be to make this fool remember him. Remember everything. With an explosion of action, Zoryn charges in with a feral yell, rising to strike out with forelimbs at anything he can reach. He then feints to the right in a flash of fury and agility, lashing out with his hinds in hopes of striking flesh or even the bones that he now wears on his shoulders and ribcage. With a wild exasperated breath, he charges toward the mare, snaking his neck out to aim a wild bite at her too. And then he is bolting, running back toward the meadow, making sure the boney bastard is following.
He runs, loving the feel of the burn in his muscles as he pushes himself on, the thrill of being chased by his once-lover. Farther, faster, until he circles around to the spot where Cerva lays with her fresh new bundle. He skids to a halt near her and then, panting, steps slowly up to her side and glances down at her with somewhat soft expression before sliding purple-flecked eyes glaring back at Dovev as he comes upon them. "Do you remember now, Dovev." His tone is cold and piercing. Void of emotion at this point. His gaze is anything but, though for now, he stands aside. Waits to see if the gun is fired, the bullet striking where Zoryn had pulled the trigger. Remember us, Dovev, you fool.
There was no grand moment of enlightenment, no great epiphany or magical awakening. He saw her, and it simply was. It all just was.
He'd chased the big bastard -his bastard- with death and fury in his dark eyes. The perfect feel of Leliana's skin still clung to him, and he ached to finish this and return to her. Immediately. Then he saw her, his ears tipped forward and his heart squeezed painfully. He slowed. He stopped. Uncertainty settled cold and solid in his chest. His sides heaved, still worn from an earlier attack that.. Leliana.
His head swayed back toward the forest, his legs began to follow. He stopped, his back to them. She was there somewhere. Maybe waiting for him. Or maybe she took Zor's words to heart and already hated him. She should. She definitely should. She would. Maybe he could pretend his memory had not returned. Who would that make him then? Would she ever want to see him again? Where would that leave his Cerva..
Cerva.
His head ducked, body stiff and rigid. Would she even recognize him now? He was no longer thick with muscle, no longer attractive and smooth-skinned. Now he was a horror, a terrible nightmare. He was a skeleton with a taut cloak, riddled with the beginnings of bone plates that constantly grew, brought him pain, made him flood with blood. There was no way she would still want him near. There was no way she would want him at all. He was no longer worthy. Of either of them. Maybe he never had been.
Leliana had seen him, had accepted his revolting appearance. But she didn't know the dark secrets he kept. The wickedness that was the real him. Did Cerva really know, though? He swallowed, and slowly turned back to Cerva, lying at Zoryn's feet. His eyes slid to Zoryn, laying bare so much pain. So much torment. Nails were embedded in his heart. Leliana would never want to see him again. Cerva would never want him near. What would- Where was he- Who was he anymore?
He closed his eyes. He breathed.
He folded his anguish away, opening a blank stare on Cerva. His mare, chosen by him as a child, claimed by him. She was his. She would not care for him anymore, not like this. A grotesque monster. But she was his, and maybe she didn't have a choice. He held her gaze as he walked to her, his heart breaking at what she might think of him now. He stood over her, silent. There was so much brokenness in her soulful eyes, brokenness he'd put there. He'd done this. When everyone else had walked out on her, he promised her he'd always be there. Always. And he'd failed her. He'd done it for them, but that would mean nothing to her shattered heart.
His brow twitched, a torrent of emotions raging in him. Regret. So much pain. Strength. Power. Darkness. Heartbreaking sadness. Longing. He was a mess, didn't know what to think. What to do. But she was his, and outwardly he was steady. As he always had been. As he always would be.
Stand, Cerva, he said firmly, a deeper voice than she knew before, his chest tightening painfully. She was stronger than this, he'd always known it. She would stand, and she would see him. She would take him as he was. She would hate him. Everything else in the world would have to wait. Everyone else..would have to wait.
Cerva is unaware of what has transpired since she had last seen Dovev, since watching Zoryn race away, and since giving birth. What pain oppressed her as been clouded by this new image of life and how innocent and pure it is. When she looks down at Atrani, she sees herself. Once, years ago, she had been a newborn that was ignorant to how terrible this world could be. There has always been an underlying hope that something would change, and that her pain would be replaced by joy and happiness. Life could never always be so horrible, right?
Every day, Cerva lied to herself. Every day she convinced herself that there was a bright side, but there never truly was.
This knowledge, she plans to use as a shield for her eyeless daughter.
”May you never see evil,” she murmurs softly into the newborn’s ear as her head still rests on her tiny body. Without the instinct - or strength - to stand and feed her, Cerva remains grounded. Grass tickles her sides every time she draws in a deep breath. Her nutmeg eyes, brimming with betrayal and hurt, are concealed underneath a forelock, but there is no way that Atrani could see her mother’s despair.
But she can feel it.
The child shifts underneath the weight of Cerva’s resting head. Her frail body wriggles and her long legs grind against the soil as she tries to slip away. Without vision, she cannot see what lies around her or what world she has been forced into. Hesitation would be her initial perspective to take, but she reaches forward and manages to escape the weight of her mother before turning blindly to where she may be. ”Atrani,” Cerva whispers exhaustedly, but it’s all she can muster to say before she hears the cracking of twigs and rush of bodies through the meadow. Where she considered herself alone, secluded from prying eyes, she was actually more easily found. On the outskirts of the meadow and with her scent still cloaking Zoryn’s nostrils, it doesn’t take long until her moments of peace end with a screeching halt.
She hadn’t expected to see Dovev. The memory of him was all she knew for the past months; it was all that she clutched to as her stomach grew heavy with child. Many would rise and immediately embrace a lost lover, but Cerva doesn’t move. For a long while, she merely drinks in this new sight. Careful note is taken of his boney armor and hiss emaciated body. Dovev is different and yet all the same. She can hear it in his voice, the possessiveness he always had for her, but she doesn’t waver. Instead, she tilts her head away and settles her eyes on their daughter. The girl is fumbling around and twisting her neck in every direction from which sound comes. She hasn’t yet tried to stand, comfortable with mother’s heat still fanning lightly across her skin, but she squirms her body toward the sound of a man, to hear him tell mother to stand. Father, she wonders but never says aloud.
Cerva doesn’t rise when Dovev demands it. She blinks and sighs, shifting herself beneath their stares. ”No,” her response is firm, her teeth clenched, ”just take your daughter and go.” Atrani exhales defeatedly, but says and does nothing except wait.
01-28-2017, 01:36 AM (This post was last modified: 01-28-2017, 01:37 AM by Dovev.)
He shielded his torment from his black eyes, emotions threatening to rip him apart from the inside. Uncertainties and fears. Regrets. Look at her, she was still so beautiful, so perfect. Soft and brown and angelic. And he was...this. This terrible monster, hideous and gory and bleeding. He was unworthy and she would see it for herself now. He would lose her forever as he had surely lost Leliana.
Time dragged so achingly slow as she observed him, took in this new version of who had once been her whole life. Her eyes were so blank, so dead, and eventually she turned them away from him. He felt that cut deep into his soul, her rejection. It hadn't even taken her long at all to consider him. Even the loving memories they had together, all the affection and their sides nearly glued together with their constant closeness, it was not enough to overcome the disgust she must feel for who he was now.
His eyes fell to the ground in defeat. "No," she said flatly, cold and empty. Solid. He flinched as it drove her dagger further into him. "..just take your daughter and go." He started at that, finally broadening his straight-pin focus to take in a child. Their child. Brown, so lovely brown, like his Cerva. A perfect little creation from a time of possessive passion as he'd claimed more of her, finally all of her. Not a boy, but a man who needed her both at his side and beneath him. He'd given her this little person and left her. He never knew, never knew. He wanted to say it, beg her to understand, but he was silenced. And his broken eyes slid to the tiny face.
Her sunken eyes stared blankly at him, and he stepped backwards. Oh god, no wonder she hated him. Look at what he'd done. He couldn't even make a child. She hated him for him, and for his spawn. His head shook, and shook, his eyes growing bleary. No no no..
Cerva- his voice broke, and a solid lump in his throat silenced him. He was a curse, more than he had ever truly understood. He ruined everything, broke everything. Cerva was battered by him, even the sweet memories of their endless caresses wouldn't bring her back. She didn't want him near, how could she? Now she didn't even want the result of his hungry claim to her. His need for her.
His expression trembled and a tear fell openly down his sharp cheekbone as he reached for the girl, his throat closing painfully. He paused at her poll, drinking in her scent -his child, his little piece of Cerva. She was all he had now, it seemed. His little Cerva.
The tear fell silently into her crest as he gripped her neck, firmly but gently. He removed her from her mother, dragged her slowly to him so she could catch herself each time he forced her to stumble in the movement. Bony chin tucked her to his leg, black hair draping over her as he nudged her closer. He ignored any protests, didn't speak. What the hell was he going to do now. How would he manage to break her even more with his darkness.
What had he done..
abby said we could skip her and she'd get to zor when she can <3 she is sick
The silence is unbearable. Eyes dance around searching for reactions while ears attentively swivel. Cerva, and even Atrani, doesn’t have to look up to see the guilt washing across Dovev’s face. The disappointment radiates from him and electrifies the couple while they lie on the ground curled into one aother. Atrani, muted by her confusion, lifts her chin and blindly scopes the area around them. Betrayal, hurt, defeat – these must all be the norm in this new world. Is there no happiness when a newborn is in their wake? A snort quivers her nostrils from having drunken their scents, mixed with the copious number of noisome flowers. Reassuringly (emptily), Cerva reaches for the child and glides her muzzle down her neck, feeling the feeble muscles and wisps of mane for the first time. Despite how destroyed her heart is, she smiles and closes her eyes.
”Atrani,” she whispers her daughter’s name, but it goes unanswered except for a hollow glance. Weak, still bleeding, Cerva forces herself away from the newborn and rests her head on the cool ground. The tall grass fingers through her mane and for a fleeting moment, Cerva is able to reflect on her childhood when there was not a single care in the world. There had only been family and home. When she opens her eyes, however, she remembers that she has long left her world of fantasy. Her life has been grim and much darker than what she envisioned herself. Amid the turbulence there was at least sprinkles of laughter and joy, but none of it ever lasted. She should have known that it wouldn’t.
Dovev reaches down to guide Atrani to her legs and into his chest. She obliges, knowing not what else she could do but follow and obey. Her velvety lips grope for his warmth where she finds the point of his shoulder and cradles it for a heartbeat before stepping away to simply be her own self and not an image melted into her parents. Her petite head jerks suddenly when she hears mother’s voice, memorizing it as best she can. ”I loved you, Dovev,” the confession is almost as unbearable as the silence that had preluded this, ”and you left me like everyone else.” She should have known she wouldn’t be enough; she has never been for anyone or anything. ”May she be a reminder of what you put me through, of the months that you never came back to me.” She pauses to lift up her head and stare into his hooded eyes. ”May she remind you of what you were when I found you.” Lost, weak, and ignorant. He had been a boy then, but that time has long since passed. He has found company – love – in others, and she cannot bring herself to fathom it all.
Broken and exhausted, she curls and exhales deeply as her mind reels with memories, almost forgetting her own newborn who stands separated from the others with searching, hollow sockets. ”A reminder,” the child says to no one, latching onto the things mother has thus far emphasized, ”of evil.”
Her little lips met him and held him for a moment before she was taking a step away to stand on her own. He immediately tugged her back into him, each time she moved he pulled her closer again.
"I loved you, Dovev, and you left me like everyone else." He froze, his heart shattering and his head shaking. He was controlling, it was his nature, but everything was slipping through his grasp. It shook him to his core, and he gripped at any form of control he could. He hated that past tense. She should still love him, even if he was revolting now. Shouldn't she? But he couldn't blame her for it, couldn't hold it against her. Just look at him. "May she remind you of what you were when I found you."
A reminder, her solemn little voice broke in, of evil.
NO!!
He had always been the calm and steady, the strength and foundation. He crumpled, he fell to his knees at his Cerva's head. He bent, he broke for her. His heart bled out and choked him.
Cerva, please.. he begged, another tear streamed down his face, dribbling away with the last thread of his happiness. He was desperate for her to understand, to take him back and be happy again. He needed her joy, her love. Her warmth. I did it for us, I swear. I did it for you. Look at me, Cerva, look. I am made a weapon for you. For you! His voice broke, raw with emotion and he swallowed the pain, so much pain. So so much pain. He did it to protect her, to always keep her safe with him.
I wasn't meant to be gone so long, Cerva. I swear it. My memory was gone until I saw you. You healed it, Cerva. Your face brought it all back. Don't you see I need you? Don't you feel anything at all for us still? His fragile eyes slid to their daughter, cradling her little face that was more like him than she'd ever truly see. He slowly frowned, feeling the anger birthing to life within him. So gradually it grew, sharpening his obsidian gaze to a metallic glint. He didn't handle pain so well, not this kind. Blood and fractures in bone, he could take, he wouldn't even notice them. He could walk in pieces and never show it. But this pain was unreachable, unbearable. It was too much and it was instead transformed into bitterness and fury. His jaw clenched, his muscles tightened.
He turned that heavy stare to Cerva, slowly rising to his feet again. Strong again, a foundation around his broken and tortured soul.
Do not abandon us, Cerva. His voice was flint, the depth of his love for her burning his throat with acid. Hate me. Break me. Make me hurt as you do. But do not leave. Promise you'll never let us go. She does not deserve it. I do. So break me, but stay. I will make this up to you. I will do anything for you. I always have. He paused, searching his mind for anything at all that could bring her back from this. As he had in training, everything was pushed from his mind without thinking about it. His focus was here, on her. Nothing else mattered. He thought..something should.
But his mind pushed it away, held it outside of himself.
All that mattered was here. wasn't it?
Atrani pulls away from the man, but then she is pressed against him again, forced to his chest like a ragdoll. She stumbles on her unstable legs, but he is there to catch her and to hold her while mother remains crumpled on the ground. Defeated, Atrani obliges. His warmth is different from mother’s; his touches aren’t as affectionate or loving. He is controlling, forcing her into place rather than preening like mother. Hesitating, uncertain, afraid. These emotions are new but already sinking venomous fangs into the child as her head moves around to follow the sounds of their voices.
Father is shoving past her then, but not because she is irrelevant. His voice – his heart – is laced with pain that bursts from him like thunder when he sinks to his knees and begs mother not to let go. Is this evil? Atrani knows not what it is, but that she is blind to it, that she will never see how it tears someone apart. Is this what mother wants to protect her from? Staggered steps inch her closer to her parents, closely listening to the desperation in father’s voice. She flinches, as does mother, when Dovev exclaims and when his passion burns his throat like lava. He wants her to stand, to fight for them, to want their happiness. Cerva spares him but a glance. She doesn’t see what has happened to his body – his face is gaunt and spiny plates having ripped his flesh – only the familiarity of his eyes as they meet hers for the first time in months.
His begging destroys her and while she now has the upperhand, she cannot bear to speak up. Beneath his hardened stare, Cerva trembles and crawls inside herself. Her nutmeg eyes shut tightly and her legs curl against her body, afraid, defeated, confused.
Atrani ambles forward then, drawn to their heartache, feeding off their torment. ”Who is he, father?” The stallion hasn’t spoken, but his scent is still pungent and fanning across her every time there is a breeze. ”And why are your scents mingled so much?” Why, when she tries to breathe in father’s scent does she also inhale the stranger’s? ”And who is the other girl?” She can smell her, too, the woman he left to find Cerva. It crosses her mind that it would be best to stay quiet, but she feeds into the heat of this moment, already fueled by their anguish.
Cerva opens her eyes then upon hearing the serene voice slipping from their daughter. She forces herself to look at Dovev. Everything he has said is alive and burning in her mind, shredding her into a million more pieces. ”I’ve never wanted to let go, but you did. You left me when you said you wouldn’t,” but she has been told that lie enough times that it shouldn’t surprise her anymore – yet it does, and yet it still hurts. ”How can I believe you now?” Cerva is slowly - shakily - rising to her feet. She stumbles once, twice, as blood dribbles down her haunches still from the birth. Her body groans and her teeth clench together. First, she looks at their daughter then to Dovev. ”How do I know that this isn’t a lie?” Because she knows how easily she has fallen for lies.
A glance is spared to Zoryn, dwelling on him for a few heartbeats before settling again onto Dovev. ”You will leave me again for her,” a pause as she tilts her head, ”for him.” She tries to reach for Atrani, but the girl shies away from such a forcible touch, unable to fathom the magnitude of the situation anymore, unable to decide who she is to follow and trust. Not pursuing her, Cerva tunnels her attention on Dovev, her eyes glassy with the emotions that are choking her. ”I was never enough for you,” she whispers as her head slowly shakes, ”Just like I was never enough for anyone else.” Not even her own family.
His strength seemed to have the opposite effect on her and she withdrew further. Dismay pinched his brows. Of course he would make everything worse by trying to make them better. She curled tighter into herself and it called him to come closer and touch her, but he was still afraid to. Afraid she would reject his touch more than she had the sight of him. It would crush him.
Atrani's voice slipped in as she came nearer, and he found himself drawn to the sound and reaching to pull her against him again. Father. And mother. They were a family. Hadn't Cerva always wanted a family? Here he had given it to her. How could she turn away from them?
Then it settled into his bones, what she said. Who is he, father? His world expanded again to take in Zoryn as though he hadn't been standing there the whole time. And who is the other girl? His head almost turned to the forest, another addition entering his mind, but it stopped at Zoryn and froze. He bared his teeth and snarled at him. This was his fault. He should have came for him sooner! The accusation was close to escaping, but he held it in check. Because if he had come sooner, he may never have known Leliana.
The name, the image, was painful. And he forced it out again.
He should have came for him sooner.
He attacked me, he answered her calmly, staring hard at Zoryn. Do not mess this up for me! I will deal with you later. His chin jerked roughly and he gestured for Zor to leave. He was just leaving. And there is no other, just a stranger, he said, turning back to her. His chest tightened at his own words and he couldn't breathe. His breath froze to ice in his lungs and he could do nothing but tug her close again and gently groom her little mane. Always pulling her back in.
Cerva stirred enough to accuse him for leaving, for letting go. "How can I believe you now?" She tried to rise to her feet and he nearly jumped to help her. Her body may have been weakened but she was strong, and he would not take that from her. He forced himself to hold still, and he succeeded until she stumbled and forced him a step closer. No, she can do this. She is strong.
"How do I know that this isn't a lie?"
He shook his head again, his eyes pleading but his voice firm. I did it for us, Cerva. For you. I wanted to be better for you. I needed to be better for you.
She glanced to Zoryn a moment, then returned to him. A flare of rage roared to life as his own eyes shot to the man. Why does she look at you! You better not have touched her! For a moment, his gaze slid to his daughter. His daughter, right? She shared similar color to her mother, but her white pattern could be from either Dovev or Zoryn. No, no. She was his, of course. His and Cerva's child. His daughter. His.
"You will leave me again for her, for him.
I was never enough for you, just like I was never enough for anyone else." No! That's not true! All the tension suddenly drained from him and he could stand the distance no more. He stepped carefully to her, black muzzle pressed against her smooth neck as he breathed her in -finally breathed her in. Oh god the smell of her, like a dark and warm den of foxes cradled so close to each other. It drew him further into her and his mouth passed tentatively over the graceful curve of muscle, experimentally. Admiring her; the shape, the look, the feel of her. Hoping she would tolerate his touch as she once had, as she had once craved it as eagerly as he for hers. Hungered for each other. But he would not hope for that. She may never truly care for him again, and it sank chill and solid in his heart.
There is no other, Cerva, he whispered into her skin. There is only you. I did it all for you.
It will always be you.
As he stands near the woman laying in a heap before him with her child- their child, hers and Dov's- his gaze never waives from the other man's face. He catches the exact moment it all finally sinks in. The hesitation, the awareness. The concern, the anger. Even better, the guilt. Zoryn releases a long sigh, his breathing from the run returning to normal. With it, all his rage suddenly drains from him and he realizes how exhausted he is. How long had he been so angry and frustrated, longing for this very moment? Dovev remembers him. And her. Because of her, he finally remembers. The relief is almost just as fulfilling as climaxing. Almost, if not for the fact he couldn't claim the satisfaction of winning this fight by himself. Still, he is... something akin to grateful for his success. Satisfied enough to stand silently by them as they carry on as though he isn't there.
What they say to one another is of little import to him, but he watches the play of emotions passing over Dovev's face. How pathetic he suddenly seems as he comes to grovel to this woman, begging her to forgive him, and finally acknowledging their love-child. Zoryn's gaze falls to the baby girl, taking in her hollowed sockets where eyes should be and her soft red tobiano baby fuzz coating her still-damp body. Idly, he finds himself lowering his head to the girl. Atrani, she called her. His muzzle reaches toward her, breath fanning her blondish mane just lightly as he sniffs at her. But he jerks his head back in surprise when attention from them all directs at him. Cerva looks at him, her voice cutting the air with her betrayal. Dovev glares blame at him, motions him to leave lest he ruin this for him. Ha! HE ruin this? Hardly, Dovev. You've done that all on your own. But still, he remains silent, only baring his own teeth and snapping at Dovev to mirror the gesture. The girl had asked who he is, as well as the other woman whose scent still clings to Dovev's skin. Smart girl. Something dark stirs in Zor's chest as he stares hard back at Dovev, wondering if he will say. But of course he doesn't. Of course. So he wouldn't further the pain in his dear Cerva and their fresh child.
With a frustrated sigh, Zor contemplates leaving. This scene is boring, and not what he deeply craves. He can find Dovev later, now that he knows he remembers. How delicious their reunion would be. Not like now, where he stands basically obsolete. A muscle in his shoulder twitches as he barely begins to lift a foot to turn and leave. But then their words break through his shield and he finds himself rooted to the ground. Tail lashes against his hide, and his head raises defiantly. Slowly, he feels his blood burn hot once more. "You will leave me again for her. For him." Her head tilts toward him and Dovev breaks. The other man dives into his woman. "No! That's not true!" And then he goes on to say there is only her and blah, blah, blah.
Zoryn snorts. Loudly, and without much thought. He can hardly stand it. To stand silently by and let Dovev say that he is just a stranger and their time had meant nothing. "Cerva, your mere presence was strong enough to restore his memories. I don't doubt you need each other. That is why I brought him here. He had to be lured. I had to make him remember." His voice, deep and heavy, is full of sincerity as he levels an honest stare at the bay woman. He cannot deny he has come to feel something close to sympathy for the mare, a kind of kinship. She better feel grateful. If not for him, she would still be laying there alone. But then his expression turns dark as he slides his gaze to Dovev. "I will leave you for now, to enjoy what time you may have left..." At this, he spares a pointed glance to the mare's rear end that still bleeds. "But make no mistake: I will not be denied by you again. You will return to me, or I will find you." He is unblinking in his fervent glare as he makes his vow. Already, Zoryn had been denied by Dovev. A time or two too many, if he was to say so. He would get what he needs- what he craves- from him. Or he would take it. Willing or not. Standing there for a moment or two longer to make sure his point has set in, he finally turns and moves off. Some distance later, he wonders where his sister is of late. His mouth waters as he sets into a higher pace to find her.
