[private] leaving all my past and silhouettes up on the wall; svedka

[Pteron]

and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
----------------tell me: who do i run to?

Something he’s asked has amused the other stallion, and rather than feel flustered, he instead feel a little warm glow of pride. Svedka was born in Tephra, he says, and tells Pteron that he’s been meaning to return there with a grin that the dun cannot help but return. They set off down the trail of his patrol, Pteron finds himself thinking that perhaps this night watch will not be so dreary as the others often are. Though there are sometimes flashes of excitement in the form of marauders or predators, Pteron finds them dull overall. Not like in a real land, a territory or a herd, where no night is ever the same with all the comings and goings.

“Another thing to add to the ‘pros’ list,” Pteron teases with a half-distracted smile, looking away at the last moment as his flicking ears catch a sound. It’s just a pair of does in the woods though, and he soon turns back. The playfulness simmers more quietly in his olive eyes now, and his smile has faded to something closer to pensive.

Though he has tucked his heart safely beside a sleeping Aegean, Pteron still finds himself drawn toward Svedka. The other stallion’s charming smile pulls him in like a moth toward moonlight, and Pteron takes the step that Svedka had not, brushing his shoulder against the other’s companionably. He pulls away without lingering, noting only that Svedka’s skin is exceptionally warm on this cool night. Maybe that is what happens when one is from the tropics, Pteron thinks. Svedka’ss reassuring smile when he asks after Pteron’s companion does exactly as intended. They will talk of Aegean, and there will be no secrets. Secrets are ruinous, Pteron has found, and he has no stomach for them anymore.

So Pteron tells Svedka: “Aegean is wonderful. Better than I deserve.”

Far better, Pteron reminds himself as he quashes the desire to push away a lock of blue-white hair that has fallen across the Svedka’s face. He looks away, out at the shadows.

“He is like the moon,” he continues, but that seems fanciful even as he says it aloud. “He lived in Hyaline once too. Maybe you knew him? His mothers are Kagerus and Solace.”

@[Svedka]

-- pteron --