09-19-2017, 03:12 PM
like the sun swallowed up by the earth
Tang’s sudden quietness does not go unnoticed by him, and from beneath a concerned brow his eyes grow soft as her voice and demeanor dims, pensively wondering what could be going on in that beautiful mind of hers. He snorts softly, hoping to perhaps catch her eye, but her focus is elsewhere, her mind not with him. The look she wears is familiar; he does the same when his heart wanders through the sky and stars, still aching and hoping that his family will one day return. He hadn’t known the adopted colt well. The sweet Kaiode had not been on his list of priorities, despite how happy the young child made Tangerine and his children. He regrets it now; he had not tried his best for the now departed colt, and in a way feels as if he cannot support Tang in the way that she truly needs to process this grim affair. Perhaps Warrick would not have even known about the incident, had he not seen Solace and Svedka coming up from the rocks, his daughter with bloodied knees and his carefree son suddenly shaken. His daughter is not the same – forever changed by the experience and Warrick had immediately noticed her change in demeanor. Perhaps she could discuss it with him (surely they were old enough now for such a serious, trying conversation?), and her burdens could be lifted, even if only somewhat, by allowing her father to carry the weight of grief, too.
Warrick says nothing as her confession tumbles forth from her lips, the honey-gold of her eyes searching the darkness and mist around them as if their surroundings somehow held an answer. Steadfast and sure, he remains sturdy beside her delicate frame, a stronghold amidst the turbulent storm that crashes into her.
“You did best by you,” he murmurs into her ear, his navy lips pressing gentle kisses onto her temple and cheek bone, his voice gentle and smooth against the slight hiss of steam that billows all around them. “No matter what you did that day, the outcome would have been the same. You are not expected to change the future that you are given to see.” He stops, his words catching in his throat as a hard lump lodges itself there. He swallows hard, tenderly brushing her tri-colored mane and forelock away from the gentle sloping angles of her painted face.
The stallion glances upwards, the vaulted ceiling of damp rock and stone before them completely blocking out any glimpse into the outside world. Warrick, however, could already picture the stars and constellations that are forming just outside of their quiet sanctuary, numerous in number and brilliant in display. “Maybe,” he breathes shakily, his feathers quaking against his auburn flesh, “my mother has a son again.”
There is a moment of silence that is comfortable but daunting, swelling and growing as minutes pass within their tiny, cozy grotto.
Finally, he speaks.
“You must go to him?” He doesn’t mean for it to be question, but he cannot help the way his voice lilts at the end of his statement. Of course she must go, he already knows the answer; but he wonders if he cannot draw out her leave, convince her that just maybe for a few more hours, they could stay here in their quiet haven, where nothing bad could happen to them.
Warrick
@[Tangerine]