If they had asked, Erupt would have readily told them he is no gallant savior. Compassion is not something he finds himself easily inclined towards, and even in the face of the blue and white mare’s clear fear and trepidation, Erupt finds himself unmoved. He has never been the kind of creature that toys with the fates, and if fate had decreed one woman to be prisoner of the other, then who is he to judge?
It does occur to him that perhaps the fates had placed him in their path for a reason, but what the reason is, he has yet to determine.
He watches the shadows flare with a detached curiosity as his twinned streams of magma continue their slow march around the two women. The thief does not appear to appreciate the seeking shadow, her eyes flashing like the fire that flares around her. He watches her, brows wrinkling briefly at her accusatory question before smoothing with his faint shrug. “No,” is his mild reply, no hint of self-pity or guilt in his jewel-bright gaze. “Why would they?”
His mother certainly hadn’t cared to. She had been a bitter woman with a biting tongue who had not bothered to find him when he wandered off, never to return.
The golden woman does not give her name, and Erupt does not care enough to push for it. Instead her smile turns sly and inviting, and the ombre stallion cannot quite dismiss the faint frown that touches his lips. Her invitation is designed to tempt. Had Erupt been a creature given to whimsy, he might have accepted without hesitation. As it is however, he is far more given to the sway of logic than the bite of intrigue. And when his lava is here rather than there, it is hard to find a reason to follow.
“Why?” The question is abrupt, filled with confusion rather than any darker emotion. He genuinely cannot fathom it. His gift would be of little use if he could not find a fresh source. “Is there lava there?”
erupt
you've got fire up and down your cheeks
@Aela