you're the pulse that I've always needed (any)

[Errant]

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth He is halfway to Mountain (ready to lay into the black king for his failure to protect the youngest of the brothers) when he feels it. He is there in the space between heartbeats, and the hoof that had been ready to land of the permafrost of the tundra settles instead on the damp sod of the Dale. “Lea?!” He yells, knowing that she is here but unable to see her. His grey eyes dart to movement on a nearby hill, where a black figure crests and is silhouetted against the bright blue sky. Errant is repeating her name in his head as he races forward, trusting his hooves more than his magic, and he barrels into Lea. The impact might be enough to knock her back but he wraps his thick neck over hers and holds her as tightly as he can. She is cool and there is still ice in her mane, but Errant is impervious to discomfort until he realizes that perhaps he might be making it more difficult to breathe. He pulls back, but not far, and runs his muzzle along her neck, he withers, he cheek anywhere he can reach. “Lea”, he says, and this time it is a whisper instead of a shout, quiet and adoring and finally an audible embodiment of all the love he has had no place to put these last dozen years. All the love that has been pooling into his chest and lungs and spilling out into jonquils and hyacinths of every color that grow and bloom in seconds instead of weeks at their feet. “Lea, Lea, Lea.” e r r a n t no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

the feeeeeels