I hear a voice inside me say
'feel the blood flow through your veins'
It was like she had been waiting for him to come back.
His movements had turned sluggish by the time he caught sight of her, frozen among the rolling hills of sand. Time, and the altercation he’d had with Batlhazar, these things added to the weight he always carried with him on his dark shoulders. So many regrets, so much bitterness, and only recently had he started to let go. He froze when he saw her figure in the dark ahead of him, and the throbbing of his maimed ear became all the more pronounced. It would be a lie to say that Sandman did not consider turning and fleeing in that moment of stillness. But the small mare held her ground before the monster that he had become, and selfishly, he drew courage from her. If she did not turn and run, then how could he?
He continued his approach, head low, movements slow and deliberate. To spook her was the last thing he wanted, and Sandman hoped that the way he held himself conveyed that he would not hurt her again. He stopped some distance away, out of respect and a desire to ease her fears as much as he could. Secretly, he marvelled at her bravery, and wondered what it was that had driven her to plant herself in the sand as she had, instead of retreating to a safer place, amonsst the security of her herd.
“Please, I…” He had come all this way, and still hadn’t figured out what he was going to say. What could he say, to even begin making up for what he’d done? To tell the little mare about Bright Eyes would be like making excuses, and that was unfair to her and the mare he’d loved and lost. All he could do was tell the truth, and beg her forgiveness. “I am so sorry for what I did to you. No-one deserved that, and I know… I-I know that I can never undo what I did, but I… I needed to tell you…” he trailed off, and turned aside, ready to leave.
After what he’d done, this desert was perhaps the only place she’d felt safe, and he didn’t want to spoil that by lingering. But neither did he leave straight away. If she had anything she wanted to say to him, he’d wait and listen, because he owed her that much. But he’d not linger long. “If there’s ever anything, anything I could do for you… I mean… I know you’ve no reason to trust a single word I say, and that you no doubt have others… But, just remember. Anything.” He drew in a breath of cool desert air, and stood motionless, head low and eyes averted, waiting for the small girl to speak or to move. He would make no retaliation if she were to attack, make no attempt to follow her, or force an answer from her if she turned to leave in silence.
Above him, the moon shone down, turning the sand silver.
as the memory
it remains |