resurrect the saint within the wretch
The overo pegasus does not look at Leonidas with any sort of expectation. It is the same gaze which looks upon the stars each night, with a storm brewing in the depths of his blue irises. He stares upon him in angry silence and accusation, in the same way he does when the stars are further away. But Warden does nothing; only narrowing his eyes slightly at the softly bouncing star as it hovers above them, indignant as the proud curve of his horns disappear into the long shadows they cast down his auburn neck.
A single ear turns towards Lilliana before the stallion begins to lower his gaze (a slow endeavor, almost as if he suddenly did not trust the star, as their conversation has now turned in such a sharp degree - does Leonidas know his curse? Has he, too, watch from the heavens as the outpouring of devastation and death drowns him?). Because, she whispers, and the sound of it captures his full attention immediately. It causes him to jerk his head quickly towards her, surprised by its sharpness despite the softness in it. There is something in her voice he finds unfamiliar, but he cannot place it. Little does he know of the anger that brews in the depths of her, much like the very caverns of his own chest. I am afraid.
“Afraid of what? That terrible things happen despite seeing it before it happens?” his reply comes immediately, unhurried as it leaves his pale mouth. Warden tucks his chin, part of his heart reminding him to practice empathy and compassion. But the other part of him - the angry, hurt, guilty part - flares wildly, manifested in the way his ears tuck backward neatly. His body tenses, muscles growing taut beneath ivory and mahogany skin while the lithe bone beneath hundreds of pale feathers stretch reflexively. “Before you met me, you were not afraid.” An assumption, of course, but Warden cannot fathom her fear has always been there.
There is something about seeing the future - something nameless, something terrible - that instills that fear.
He smooths his wings with a quick toss of his head, turning his pale and hardened face away from her once again towards the shadows, away from Leonidas’ light. “This does not need to be your burden to bear, Lilliana. It was never meant for anyone other than me.” The stallion’s jawline grows tight as he grinds his teeth, the truth and hurt in his own voice more than evident.
@[lilliana]