CAN YOU KEEP ME CLOSE,
Bucky found himself comforted by these fields. This is where he had reunited with Liam — his childhood best friend, his saviour, his everything. During those long days when he found himself at a loss for what to do, he would come here to lose himself to his foggy recollection of memories. More recently he found himself pondering what he could remember about his supposed sister. What little he could bring forward was often accompanied by thoughts of Liam, like the three of them under that old fruit tree, giggling as they stole an apple or two from the well-tended orchard.
He was alarmed to find that he couldn’t remember her name. No matter how long or hard he looked back at those days, the magical tampering of his memories kept those walls in his mind intact. Time, he had been told, was the only solution. It had been years since he freed himself from his unwilling servitude, and yet Bucky found that time was a very slow healer.
There was a part of him that understood that he could just ask Liam about what he was remembering, but he didn’t wish to burden the sovereign anymore than he already was.
A quiet noise of frustration left the scarred stallion as he continued his roaming of the fields. Nothing had changed since he was last here a few days ago, except — he paused, brow furrowing as he realised that something had in fact changed. Rather, that something might actually be a someone. A sooty, ashen looking someone who certainly seemed to be in quite a state. From this distance Bucky couldn’t actually tell if what he was looking at was alive, or if he’d stumbled across some lightly barbecued corpse.
His expression twisted into one of displeasure at such a thought, but he started his approach carefully. Bucky was by no means a stranger to death — his entire existence was filled with violence. Yet as he came close it hit him just how young this someone was. Barely out of childhood from the looks of it, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell this boy had encountered to leave him in such a state.
Huffing softly, he wrinkled his nose at the ashy smell as he leaned his head over to take a look down at the soot-covered youth. “Are you still alive? Or should I start digging a grave?” He grumbled his question, “You look like something tried to cook ya.”
@Aeon
He was alarmed to find that he couldn’t remember her name. No matter how long or hard he looked back at those days, the magical tampering of his memories kept those walls in his mind intact. Time, he had been told, was the only solution. It had been years since he freed himself from his unwilling servitude, and yet Bucky found that time was a very slow healer.
There was a part of him that understood that he could just ask Liam about what he was remembering, but he didn’t wish to burden the sovereign anymore than he already was.
A quiet noise of frustration left the scarred stallion as he continued his roaming of the fields. Nothing had changed since he was last here a few days ago, except — he paused, brow furrowing as he realised that something had in fact changed. Rather, that something might actually be a someone. A sooty, ashen looking someone who certainly seemed to be in quite a state. From this distance Bucky couldn’t actually tell if what he was looking at was alive, or if he’d stumbled across some lightly barbecued corpse.
His expression twisted into one of displeasure at such a thought, but he started his approach carefully. Bucky was by no means a stranger to death — his entire existence was filled with violence. Yet as he came close it hit him just how young this someone was. Barely out of childhood from the looks of it, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell this boy had encountered to leave him in such a state.
Huffing softly, he wrinkled his nose at the ashy smell as he leaned his head over to take a look down at the soot-covered youth. “Are you still alive? Or should I start digging a grave?” He grumbled his question, “You look like something tried to cook ya.”
@Aeon
mono | art
