G A R E T H
The affection with which she spoke brought a smile to the stallion’s features. He was glad to see that the fragile blooms of their friendship had held through the ordeal. She was already feeling better, he knew, by the tones she used. The mare may have been adapted to withstand pain, but it appeared that she genuinely felt at ease. The trust that he had worked to build was stable, at least for the time being. This was no small feat, he knew, and he cherished this victory, warmth blooming in his chest. He was satisfied, as much as a medic could be with his work. His patient was no longer in as much pain, and that was a great joy.
A heavy lid drifted open as Pangaea moved the final jar to him. He lifted his head, opening the container. “I’m glad you liked them,” he said. “I have others. Peaches, berries. They aren’t much, but it should be something.” He nibbled on the fruit quietly, alternating his attention between the fire and the mare at his side.
“If you are concerned about any predators, don’t be.” He had seen her vision shift, assuming it was the instinct to keep watch. “When I was gathering the snow, I saw no tracks. Not that I could see much at all. The winds were howling.” Muscles rippled underneath the stallion’s thick coat at the reminder of the cold just outside the confines of the cave.
He pushed the empty jar to one side, craning his thick neck to check on one of the smaller pots of snow. His weight shifted, his girth pressing lightly to the mare, partially to steady himself and due to their general proximity. “My apologies,” he murmured, situating himself back down, satisfied that they would soon have more fresh water.
“If you need me to move,” he said, “I can.” His audits flicked back, almost embarrassed. “I know I’ve been nothing but intruding upon your space since we met. You’ve been very patient with that, and I’m grateful to have been able to assist you.” The stallion shuffled his hooves nervously, realizing that he may have been crossing the line by becoming too comfortable.
Gareth didn’t want to acknowledge it, but being in this cavern again had stirred thoughts in him, feelings. While he had been preoccupied with his medical work, with preparing them for their stay, he’d had no room to ponder things. Though the memories lingered in the back of his mind, that is where they stayed, spectres just out of sight. Now that he had calmed, his limbs no longer moving, his thoughts began to wander. With the heat of the fire and with the closeness he shared with this mare, his heart started to ache.
The last time these walls had seen a mare had been Salome, all those years ago. When they had both been young, and had not truly known the weight of responsibility. Had not yet known the ways of the world. When he had not known how to voice his true feelings, before he had lost her forever. And yet, somehow, she had returned to him. Twice she had come. He had not shared the whole truth with the saurian mare; Gareth had gathered things over time to bring here, but his implication had left it at years rather than days or weeks. The bedding the stallion had gathered, the bedding which he now shared had once been for his beloved Salome. The canned fruits were a result of his own labor, half as a peace offering and as a show of his affections. She had never come. He’d waited for her, the entire season until the snow finally began to melt. It had been the longest time the stallion had been separated from his bonded companion. Noor had thought him foolish then, just as he had thought him foolish now.
Then, as if by some blessing or curse she had appeared to him again. A ghoul of a woman. Still achingly beautiful, but no longer the Salome he had known in his youth. No longer the mare that he had pined for all those years. She had been twisted by the cruelties of fate, of a world that neither of them could have envisioned. She had sworn to him the secrets of her new life, or half life. And in his loneliness, in his heartache, he had forgiven her. He had finally spoken his love for her, and she had shared that love in return before swiftly vanishing once more.
Salome had left a hole in his heart and in an attempt to heal it he had thrown himself into his work. And in doing so, it had led him back here, to this cavern which held so many memories of both youthful innocence, and tragic heartbreak. At the edges of the firelight danced the shadows of her laughter, her wisdom, her quietness. In the glow of the embers he saw his own anger, his regret and sense of betrayal.
In this intimate moment, in the silence he shared with Pangaea, he imagined what could have been. It drew the heartache into a deafening roar and his gut twisted, hard. In the echoes of memories he felt dwarfed by his loneliness, and in spite of the words he had spoken to her, there was nothing he wanted more than to be closer to her. To run his muzzle across her spine and breathe deeply of her scent. To fill the void he felt within himself and to drown all of his senses in her.
A heavy lid drifted open as Pangaea moved the final jar to him. He lifted his head, opening the container. “I’m glad you liked them,” he said. “I have others. Peaches, berries. They aren’t much, but it should be something.” He nibbled on the fruit quietly, alternating his attention between the fire and the mare at his side.
“If you are concerned about any predators, don’t be.” He had seen her vision shift, assuming it was the instinct to keep watch. “When I was gathering the snow, I saw no tracks. Not that I could see much at all. The winds were howling.” Muscles rippled underneath the stallion’s thick coat at the reminder of the cold just outside the confines of the cave.
He pushed the empty jar to one side, craning his thick neck to check on one of the smaller pots of snow. His weight shifted, his girth pressing lightly to the mare, partially to steady himself and due to their general proximity. “My apologies,” he murmured, situating himself back down, satisfied that they would soon have more fresh water.
“If you need me to move,” he said, “I can.” His audits flicked back, almost embarrassed. “I know I’ve been nothing but intruding upon your space since we met. You’ve been very patient with that, and I’m grateful to have been able to assist you.” The stallion shuffled his hooves nervously, realizing that he may have been crossing the line by becoming too comfortable.
Gareth didn’t want to acknowledge it, but being in this cavern again had stirred thoughts in him, feelings. While he had been preoccupied with his medical work, with preparing them for their stay, he’d had no room to ponder things. Though the memories lingered in the back of his mind, that is where they stayed, spectres just out of sight. Now that he had calmed, his limbs no longer moving, his thoughts began to wander. With the heat of the fire and with the closeness he shared with this mare, his heart started to ache.
The last time these walls had seen a mare had been Salome, all those years ago. When they had both been young, and had not truly known the weight of responsibility. Had not yet known the ways of the world. When he had not known how to voice his true feelings, before he had lost her forever. And yet, somehow, she had returned to him. Twice she had come. He had not shared the whole truth with the saurian mare; Gareth had gathered things over time to bring here, but his implication had left it at years rather than days or weeks. The bedding the stallion had gathered, the bedding which he now shared had once been for his beloved Salome. The canned fruits were a result of his own labor, half as a peace offering and as a show of his affections. She had never come. He’d waited for her, the entire season until the snow finally began to melt. It had been the longest time the stallion had been separated from his bonded companion. Noor had thought him foolish then, just as he had thought him foolish now.
Then, as if by some blessing or curse she had appeared to him again. A ghoul of a woman. Still achingly beautiful, but no longer the Salome he had known in his youth. No longer the mare that he had pined for all those years. She had been twisted by the cruelties of fate, of a world that neither of them could have envisioned. She had sworn to him the secrets of her new life, or half life. And in his loneliness, in his heartache, he had forgiven her. He had finally spoken his love for her, and she had shared that love in return before swiftly vanishing once more.
Salome had left a hole in his heart and in an attempt to heal it he had thrown himself into his work. And in doing so, it had led him back here, to this cavern which held so many memories of both youthful innocence, and tragic heartbreak. At the edges of the firelight danced the shadows of her laughter, her wisdom, her quietness. In the glow of the embers he saw his own anger, his regret and sense of betrayal.
In this intimate moment, in the silence he shared with Pangaea, he imagined what could have been. It drew the heartache into a deafening roar and his gut twisted, hard. In the echoes of memories he felt dwarfed by his loneliness, and in spite of the words he had spoken to her, there was nothing he wanted more than to be closer to her. To run his muzzle across her spine and breathe deeply of her scent. To fill the void he felt within himself and to drown all of his senses in her.
"Speech" | | @Pangaea |
