i can't undo what i've done
i can't un-sing a song that's been sung
i can't un-sing a song that's been sung
He doesn’t know she is following him, because he doesn’t look back once he has turned around and begun to walk away. He can’t know the gratitude that she feels, because Grey had only spoken to them that way because the guards were slacking off on their duties. And, oh, once he comes across someone in this place with a higher status he might just make mention of it to he or she.
He still feels the aching of failure in his bones when he hears her speak behind him, her voice reaching out for him in the infinitesimal spaces between equines brushing too close to his sides. Grey stops, almost reluctantly, and his white white eyes find her sunshine ones. The crowd separates around them like a wind breaking against a wall, and he can hear more than one muttered complaint. The unicorn ignores them.
She calls him kind, but he cannot blame her for not knowing him enough to know otherwise. He is not kind, not truly. He had not commanded them for her, he might have done it for anyone left standing helplessly outside in such a way. Perhaps, on a different day, he might not have done it at all. He cannot say. “Do not mistake compulsion for kindness,” he says somewhat idly.
His breath does not fog the air but his voice crystallizes as it rolls off his tongue. Still he does not move out of the flow of traffic, does not indicate for them to step to the side. He is has immovable and cold as the mountain that had nearly claimed his life.
She speaks of fear and his gaze flickers back toward the gates, at the guards now standing in their places as they should have been doing without his behest. Grey has known many things, but fear is perhaps the one thing he has never felt. Once he had been too confident for fear, too angry, and then too lost. “I think they are simply too ignorant to know I have no say in whether they keep their jobs or not,” he observes then, after a moment.
Grey
@Forseti
