Tiberios
When he first catches sight of her (just there, over the lowest ridge - she’s seen him now he’s sure) he surfaces from the blackness that’s held him under for so long now. It’s painful; this new emotion that he’d thought was gone forever. It burns in a familiar ache that the night-stallion has dreamed of ever since that day in the meadow. He breaths her name against his lips, trembles at the sacred meaning its always held for him. She was his god. He notices that there seems to be something different about her: an ethereal glow. He thinks she’s never been more beautiful than now.
Her nearness causes nothing but the subtle flick of his gaze. He doesn’t move, refuses to speak until she’s done. The usual questions he’s expected. “Where’ve you been … I searched for you … I waited…” They seem unreal in this setting. The countless times he’s dreamed of them - but they don’t compare. Tiberios mulls over the idea of what she’s been dreaming of. He wonders if she’s held him close in her heart the same way that he’s given himself to her. But he can tell by her distance - her tone. Something’s changed. There’s a divide between them, and the wrecked stallion guesses as to what.
He blinks softly, slowly, and recalls the last time the two had seen each other. Gold against silver. Talulah tucked comfortably into the curve of Tiphon’s body. You see - he’s learned. He knows better than to trust anymore, to hope. He’s buried those useless emotions with his heart, somewhere in his past. Perhaps at one time they could have been a beautiful duo. Perhaps she could have been his. But now the ethereal glow seems tainted. Dirty.
“I was busy being tortured for a crime I never committed. So sorry to have inconvenienced you, my lady.” He speaks, no hint of anger or jest in his voice. He blinks again, clearing his mind before inhaling. “Any word on Tiphon?”
TIBERIOS
White Fire manipulating stallion