let my shadows prove the sunshine
There is something definitely amiss, and Svedka’s face shows the sudden concern that easily flickers across his face. The stallion takes a stride towards her, his neck stretching so that he might brush her cheek with a swift touch of his lips, but finds himself frozen in the middle of the gesture. Her reaction is vicious and (to him) unreasonable; confusion finds each edge of his handsome face, eyes wide and his jaw slackening. He does not shuffle backwards from her, however, but instead continues to close the gap between them like he had intended to do previously, though with different intentions and emotions in each of his movements.
Her voice scalds him like hot water with each accusation she throws at him, his eyes closing each time another fact is laid before him so evidently. Questions begin to tumble through his mind but he remains silent as she breathes heavily, spouting raw emotion and anger into the air. As each terrible phrase comes to an end he has attempted to embrace her, not only to try to comfort her but to comfort himself - to pull her beneath the strong curve of his neck (that smells strictly of the mountain and his feral-life) and to breathe deeply despite the insane amount of worry and fear that now plagues his mind.
Where have I been?
He has a daughter? Solace had the triplets?
Svedka swallows hard, and whether Ilma has allowed him to embrace her or not, he takes a step back to blink slowly into her eyes, his brow furrowed. “Ilma,” he begins, but he pauses - hesitates - because telling her the truth seems like a cop-out, especially when he doesn’t even know what the truth is. “I don’t...I don’t know what’s happened...” His chest is pounding and for the first time in probably all of his life, worry and doubt clouds the edges of his sky-blue eyes. His heart races, pulsating faster and faster with each intake of breath, and he feels something scratching beneath the surface, begging to be released; something that was just waiting for a sign of weakness, an opportunity to take hold of him once again.
The stallion tosses his head, a mixture of cerulean and ivory cascading over his face with the savage motion. He turns to look at Ilma again, but his familiar blue eyes have disappeared and a pupil-less black stares back at her - empty, fearsome and wild. “Ilma, I - ” his voice is quaking with terror, finding himself forgetting her name even as it spills off of his tongue. “What’s happened to me - ”
But he cannot finish the sentence because suddenly he remembers nothing, and the lion has taken his place.
svedka
@[Ilma] he's shifted, but you have the free reign to say if ilma stays or tries to run away
