[private] I can't repair the damage done, [{Wishbone}]

[Wolfbane]

- Are you thinking of me when you love him? -

They make memories. It’s what they do. Wolfbane knows the smell of her salt-soaked skin, the tune of her thick, passionate voice. Everything that had been so commonplace before was suddenly so obviously striking now, and he marvels at how instantaneously the entire span of a lifetime intertwined with this exciting, daringly exquisite mare had come into focus.

There had always been Wishbone and Wolfbane, and there always would be.

The careful blue smile he’s constructed doesn’t falter when she edges nearer; this is natural to him, having her close. In fact it all seems natural - the way his lips reach for her poll at the same instant her own touch the high point of his shoulder - and Wolfbane is more willing to let whatever was happening simply happen, rather than debate the merits or drawbacks anymore. There would always come a time when she needed him and, even if he can’t be the one to hold her every night, he’ll be the one who holds her when it matters most. Fuck the rest of them, whoever they are that’ll slink in and see what he’s seeing.

He’ll outdo them all.

Of course you would never leave me, the bay mare sighs; a breathy gasp that sends his gut writhing into a coil of nerves. This was no ordinary woman, no creature who could be won over by talk and flattery. If what he feels is real, (and it is, more real than anything he’s ever experienced before) Bane knows he won’t be the first or the last to desire her. What he knows for certain is that no one will fight for her like he will, and no one will ever understand her needs or heart the way he does.

All this time …

“Probably worse.” He answers her, trying hard to cover his disappointment with nonchalance. “No, I haven’t. I’ve thought about visiting Femur but -” He drops off, unwilling to say the final words I can’t bear to see him again. Instead the blue striped stallion grows quiet, letting his mouth drift to the shadowy curve of her throat instead. “You realize how important you are to me, don’t you?” The Loessian tries, wanting - needing her to know this above all else.

WOLFBANE

@[Wishbone]