Common

As naive as Kvothe was, she did not recognize the effect that her attentions were having on the pale stallion. Nor did she notice that he was just as inexperienced and uncertain as she was in matters of physical intimacy. Though Ironclad was the younger of the pair, the chestnut mare was naturally inclined to be submissive, and yielded to his greater confidence without pause. If the boy had ordered her into the sea despite her exhaustion, Kvothe would have gone without complaint. And if he had pressed for more information about her past, she would have set aside her sorrows and answered any question that he asked of her. Since the moment he had claimed her, the hazel creature had accepted that both her actions and her thoughts were his to command.

What she had not expected was that he might command her heart as well.

Though Kvothe had never known love, she had seen and heard enough about the emotion to understand that it was not the cause of the warmth that had begun to pool in her chest. She knew that love took time to build - like a summer storm, it built slowly, and then arrived suddenly. But Ironclad had been kind and understanding, and in the short time that they had stood here together, she had already come to feel affection for him - and a strong desire to be close to him, both physically and emotionally. These thoughts were only strengthened by the way he acknowledged and respected her need to rest - though when he indicated that she would need strength to meet his sire, Kvothe felt a ripple of fear travel through her, its sharp talons squeezing into her chest.

So long as it was just the two of them, she could be certain of her happiness. But she could not hold Ironclad captive her in this meadow forever, though the idea of trying held a certain temptation that set the copper strands of her tail dancing through the air. But before she could respond - or even piece together the tattered veil of her thoughts - the warmth of his body was abruptly withdrawn from her side, leaving Kvothe feeling both desolate and inexplicably flustered. Struggling to control the ridiculous hurt that had welled up inside her at Ironclad’s sudden retreat, the Friesian-blooded mare did not look up until she had regained control of her wayward emotions.

“I will rest standing. I have no wish to hold you away from your family any longer than needed, and I should be fine to continue once the sun has risen.” The grey dawn had brightened around them as they interacted, so that the sky was now painted in a palette of beautiful pastel colors that varied from pale pink to soft orange. The sun - which had just begun to peek over the edge of the world - was concealed behind Ironclad’s still figure, surrounding his pale body with a nimbus of light. Together, the sunrise and stallion painted a sight that was wondrous to behold - and yet also left Kvothe aching. Surely this kind and beautiful creature could not be meant for the likes of her. There was nothing about her that could hope to hold him.

With that final truth to darken her thoughts, the lean chestnut circled around in place once, twice before finally settling down with her body facing out to sea, and her rump pointed in Ironclad’s direction. As the soothing murmur of the sea lulled her into the detachment that preceded sleep, however, Kvothe’s final thoughts were of the new life that she faced, and the bright pinpoint of hope that she had clung to since the stallion’s first kind words.