[open] you are an animal with an animal's desires; any

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

Magnus has lived under the burden of his guilt for years.

Guilt for those he has let down. Guilt for those he has disappointed. The kingdoms he hasn’t been strong enough to protect. The loved ones who wanted more from him than he was willing, or able, to give. The hunger that bites in the back of his mind, driving him forward, reminding him of everything that he has just simmering beneath the surface—a darkness he has always turned his cheek to, always ignored. 

He is tired of bowing his shoulders beneath it. Tired of bending down and accepting the weight for things he cannot control. He feels the shift in him every day, like a film being peeled from his eyes, and despite these responsibilities that he shoulders, he finds himself standing straighter. There is a spark in his eyes that has long been dulled as he relinquishes his white-knuckled hold on his demons, on his regrets. 

There is a fire in his belly as he leaves Tephra this night, slipping from the protective shield of her and turning to a recklessness he has long since abandoned. He shoots forward across the border, powerful muscles bunching beneath the scarred, golden sheen of his coat. The milky light of night illuminates his path as makes his way first down the border between Sylva and Taiga, then through Loess, and then finally to the forest. He doesn’t slow as he runs, the hours bleeding away, his muscles screaming with a familiar burn, the exertion turning him to a crushed gold, darkening his coat and the darkest points of him.

He doesn’t stop until he is deep into the forest. Until the trees have cradled him and his breathing comes in deep, rhythmic pulls. He tosses his head, still riding the wave of adrenaline, his tangled, matted mass of mane lifting and then falling down both sides of his curved neck. His hooves come down hard on the forest ground and he takes several dancing steps to the side, lips curved wickedly with enjoyment as the rush of adrenaline sweeps through his veins, reminding him of the joy of life he has denied for so long.

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above