Bound for trouble from the start
I've been walking through this old world in the dark
He remembers a large tree, of bright light and the soft singsong of birds. That feeling of peace that he had only been able to grab snatches of, unattainable. The Gates had been the closest thing to sanctuary he had ever found. In truth, it was a mockery. Magnus and the childhood dreams of the life he could have had was what drew him there. It was silly to hold on to those, his childhood had long passed. Time only moved forward, what was done could never be undone. The Gates had given a beautiful life to Magnus. It had shown him love and children and happiness. For Ledger it would only be a brutal reminder that he had not been a part of it. Could never truly be one of them with all his flaws and disturbances.
The Dale had been no better, his cage. His captivity growing up. And then there was the dark sands of the beach, the sound of the waves lapping gently against the shore. The bodies, the smell of decay. His birthplace. All tainted. It was here, open fields of grass and flowers. This was truly the only home he had ever really had. This was his true pathetic sanctuary.
Of course most of these places don’t exist anymore. He’s slowly coming to understand that from bits and pieces he picks up in passing conversations. Now they are simply memories, something to be written down in history books. Something to be read by a person who will never truly grasp their importance or what they meant to someone who actually lived there and experienced it all. Now he truly has nowhere to go, no destination. Summer makes him uncomfortable but the season seems to be losing it’s edge. Ever since the change, he has a hard time in the heat. Cooler temperatures put him much more at ease. The beast within him agrees although it has an understanding with that burning pit that hovers between stomach and chest. That seeping anger that weeps into his blood like an open wound. It flares and recoils and the beast waits, knowing it’s his opening into an unpredictable world.
Burrs have tangled into the mess that is his mane and forelock, he can see them out of the corner of his eye. He is unkempt, grizzled. There has never been one to lovingly look after him, to gently tease the thistles from his tresses and smooth them till they were silky smooth. He has never cared about his ragged appearance, why start now when his body was disfigured. What was the point in impressing anyone, it’s not like they truly cared for him. It’s not like they would stay.
Thoughts interrupted by a call behind him, he hesitates before arching his neck and swinging his thin frame partially around. It’s the good eye that warily looks at her now. The crater in his skull hidden from her, pieces of forelock lazily falling over it like a horrific waterfall. Flecks of gold glinting ever so slightly from a murky cold brown. She is different. Painted. He had not seen many of her coloring before. His gaze traces from sable kissed ears to the milky sheen of her neck. A soft breeze catches her scent. Ash, sweat, flowers. An unusual perfume which makes her more of a curiosity. Now he remembers something he had tried to forget. That of a tree burning, soot clinging to his nostrils, ash stinging festering wounds. Panic. The scream of a girl when the beast first showed it's snowy head.
He is wary to approach her, the bear inside him is disturbed. Oh his magic was gone (which he does not know, unaware that the beast currently has no power over him) but the polar bear was a part of him now, forever. This stallion was promised to ice, that which had pierced his heart and claimed ownership as it melted into it’s thick veins. The bear senses the fire in her and while it can control the flames in the chestnut, it has no power over her. It understands that she could melt him, make him weak.
”Hello.” Rough words returned towards his polar oppositie. His weight gently shifts from one back hoof to the other, betraying his anxiety. ”I’m Ledger.” He finally manages, tilting his visage ever so slightly, extending a soft tanned muzzle as he lays his confusion on the table. ”Why are you here?” It’s almost rude depending on it’s context. He simply wants to know why here. Out of everyone, why him?
Ledger