Heartfire is powerful.
She could kill him if she wanted to. It's part of what drew him to her, as though he was constantly teasing death, skirting the lethal edge of his Dagger, his fate firmly tied to her present mood at any given time. Which was usually volatile. Unpredictable.
He loved to piss her off and push her around, challenge that precarious bladed tip, challenge the fates and toy with his own death. He'd never been afraid to die. And she loved that he did it, the way he would pick away at her armor and make her lash out when he cut too close. Always so unpredictable. She never disappointed.
And she loved that he wasn't afraid of her as he should be. He wasn't intimidated by her as they all should be.
She was stumbling now and didn't seem like she could put the images together of what was in front of her and who was near. She was delirious and disoriented. He watched her calmly in silence, though his chest tightened at seeing her this way. He wouldn't call her vulnerable, never that, but it was close enough. It was okay. He'd never tell.
He held still as she painted blood over his bone, trying to grasp onto her reality. He didn't want to like his name in her voice, but his name was such a rare thing, not given out freely. A name she had stolen for herself by digging into his memories. And he supposed he did like it.
"Briella," she said next, and he didn't react. His baby was gone. He would fetch her soon. He'd watched her panic and scamper away to warmer areas, and he would track her down as soon as Heartfire was also safe. Not that she was helpless. She clearly was not that.
"Dagger," he murmured softly as she began searching for the baby girl, touching his black and bloody muzzle to her shoulder in a steady caress. "I have her here," he lied to those frayed thoughts of hers. "Further up there," he added with a nod in the direction they needed to go next, his voice calm and confident. Promising.
"We have to go get her now." He leaned against her, supporting her and seeking her attention with another light nuzzle, his overly-warm breath on her cheek. He was hot, too hot. Inside and out.
She needed warmth and rest.
"Let's go get Briella. We should put her to bed now." He'd noticed how she would fight for his girl, protective of the filly. Cared for her. He would use it to his advantage.
we're slaves to any semblance of touch
Lord, we should quit but we love it too much
