09-04-2017, 11:38 AM
The bay stallion didn’t necessarily intimidate them… he was just big, the biggest horse they’ve seen so far in their short lives. If they’d met their grandfather, the King, they might have thought otherwise but for now, the bay was like a giant to them and they thought giants existed only in stories. So it was more like they looked at him with a healthy measure of respect and awe. He certainly posed no threat from his peaceful posture and they liked him more for that, and the fact that he seemed to know the seafoam-colored mare and maybe even loved her. Both of them picked up on that because they recognized the look in his eyes, it was the same look their father had in his eyes whenever he looked at their mother. It was a look of love, of things unsaid but somehow known and Iron and Wine shared a knowing smile between them.
“Spear and Antonia,” said the colt as he casually threw out their parents’ names.
“Iron and Wine,” said the filly, nodding first to her brother to indicate that he was Iron and she was Wine so the distinction was clear.
The stallion suggests moving away from the sea and for a moment, they balk at the idea of this until both of them realize that the tide has become a force to be reckoned with it and his suggestion is for the best. There might be something of an authoritative ring to it that reminds them of their parents, knowing full well that mother and father would say the same thing as the dusk deepened to full night around them. Their concern is still tantamount for the pale mare even as she assures them that she is alright. Something in her tone is not entirely convincing but they do not press the matter, knowing when it is best to just shut up and listen.
Neither of them is aware that they’ve done an injustice to her by asking their question. It was naive and thoughtless of them in their haste to understand if she was fine or not, which she said she was but then why the long swim out to sea as if to never come back? Her thoughts and feelings seemed more important to them than the milkiness of her eyes and the unnerving way that she stared beyond them at something neither of them could ever see, though that too, left them curious because blindness was not something introduced to them or told about in stories that they could remember. Giants, yes, like the stallion. Blind mares like her, no. They’d have to ask mother and father if there were stories about blind horse-heroes or something like that.
It was Wine of course, who was more compelled than Iron was to snuggle up to the pale mare’s side and rub her little face against the sea-damp shoulder. “I’m sorry, that seems like a cruel way to grow up. Slowly losing the ability to see the world around you.” There was genuine compassion in her soft voice as she nuzzled the pale skin and planted one small kiss there as a token of understanding and sweetness. Iron came to join her, running his nose over the same place and crowding his sister tight between the mare and himself. The mare moves though at the stallion’s behest and the twins trail her, like bright little shadows as the coast falls further behind them.
Iron wants to ask the obvious - why she went swimming so far out in the dangerous tide at near-dark but the question never leaves his lips. Wine can sense his curiosity enflamed more so by the mare’s admittance of her hardship and she chides him with a nip to his flank. “Don’t ask,” she whispers as the small motley group comes together.
“Spear and Antonia,” said the colt as he casually threw out their parents’ names.
“Iron and Wine,” said the filly, nodding first to her brother to indicate that he was Iron and she was Wine so the distinction was clear.
The stallion suggests moving away from the sea and for a moment, they balk at the idea of this until both of them realize that the tide has become a force to be reckoned with it and his suggestion is for the best. There might be something of an authoritative ring to it that reminds them of their parents, knowing full well that mother and father would say the same thing as the dusk deepened to full night around them. Their concern is still tantamount for the pale mare even as she assures them that she is alright. Something in her tone is not entirely convincing but they do not press the matter, knowing when it is best to just shut up and listen.
Neither of them is aware that they’ve done an injustice to her by asking their question. It was naive and thoughtless of them in their haste to understand if she was fine or not, which she said she was but then why the long swim out to sea as if to never come back? Her thoughts and feelings seemed more important to them than the milkiness of her eyes and the unnerving way that she stared beyond them at something neither of them could ever see, though that too, left them curious because blindness was not something introduced to them or told about in stories that they could remember. Giants, yes, like the stallion. Blind mares like her, no. They’d have to ask mother and father if there were stories about blind horse-heroes or something like that.
It was Wine of course, who was more compelled than Iron was to snuggle up to the pale mare’s side and rub her little face against the sea-damp shoulder. “I’m sorry, that seems like a cruel way to grow up. Slowly losing the ability to see the world around you.” There was genuine compassion in her soft voice as she nuzzled the pale skin and planted one small kiss there as a token of understanding and sweetness. Iron came to join her, running his nose over the same place and crowding his sister tight between the mare and himself. The mare moves though at the stallion’s behest and the twins trail her, like bright little shadows as the coast falls further behind them.
Iron wants to ask the obvious - why she went swimming so far out in the dangerous tide at near-dark but the question never leaves his lips. Wine can sense his curiosity enflamed more so by the mare’s admittance of her hardship and she chides him with a nip to his flank. “Don’t ask,” she whispers as the small motley group comes together.