Falls

In the silence that fills the clearing around him he can almost feel her anxiety so thick is it in the air, despite that he had merely walked past her to stand sentry as he allowed her whatever time she needed to collect herself. Even from his peripheral he could see the slight shudder beneath her ebony coat and not for the first time cursed what had been done to her. Even in their brief interactions he could see the proud, confident mare she no doubt is… was… and yet she stands on the banks of the frigid pool shattering into pieces at his mere presence. Yet he was patient, one of the many things age had caught him and he cocked one feathered hoof to shift his weight as he lingered. For a moment he wondered if he should leave her be as she has already requested but found the idea of deserting her in such a state against every fiber of his being. No, he would make sure she was safe somehow, after what she had been through at the hands of his sex she deserved no less.

The spotted sentinel wondered what must be rolling through her mind as the gentle flutter of her movement drew his emerald gaze back to her. That fresh look at her state enough to cause whatever remnants of desire to keep himself separated from that which had nothing to do with him to crumble. A worthless apology for what she had suffered did not seem like enough, though he offered it still, but its triviality caused words he did not necessarily intend to tumble forth. A rumbled proposal to act in vengeance on her behalf, that desire to retaliate one he had not felt in so many years, and yet the words curled with something akin to a growl at the very thought. Oh yes, he would like very much to teach whoever had done this to her some proper manners.

His muscles tightened as his mind already raced with images of how exactly he might go about it. He is an arrow ready to be loosed should she so choose, and yet as she shakes her delicate head he exhales allowing his posture to relax once more. Those brilliant eyes remain steady on her troubled features as her uneven voice relayed a response full of much more clarity and foresight that he could have imagined possessing in such a state. The speckled vagabond can only nod his head in acceptance of her decision, despite that darker part of him which would like no more to still track down the bastard on his own to dispense justice. He could not, would not, risk bringing more hell down on her if it was not her wish.

For the first time her statement has him realizing the likelihood of just how long this encounter would haunt her, despite having no more than a few of his own wild oats roaming around that he would never know. How different the lives of their genders where. He would never recall every such encounter he had been a proponent of over the years and yet he doubted every one of those mares would never forget his face. Shame washed over him anew, a lifetime of sins he would never be able to atone for, but now was not the time for it. To put his own issues ahead of her own in this moment would only be to continue walking that same path and she deserve his selflessness.

At a loss he searched for what he should say, knowing that in this moment none of it would matter or likely even be remembered by the silvery mare but the desire remained as his soft gaze lingered in the deceptively peaceful twilight. Those spotted ears pull forward to catch the soft words she offers across the distance that still separated them, and thought it was a much kinder request for him to take his leave he wondered if he didn’t hear a touch of disappointment therein at the idea. He could not deny that he preferred to not leave her, and yet he would not force his presence upon her. “Only if that is what you want…” That rumbling drawl laced with his own aversion towards the idea, a feeling which only amplified at the shudder that seemed to dance across her brindled form. The cold from the water bit at his heels as the temperatures steadily dropped and he could only fathom how her shock-wracked body would be responding. Unconsciously he shifted forward to comfort her, to offer what warmth that his large body could provide so easily as he once had the fiery Rivaini amidst that blizzard, but the mare before him did not possess the strength a lone mare so often needed to accept aid of that kind. At least not now.

Shifting his sizeable weight to hide the instinctual move in the hopes to not make her uncomfortable he sighed lightly, “but I’d not like to leave you by yerself right now. It will likely be near freezing tonight.” The implications of what that would mean for her were no doubt obvious to them both, and he searched for some solution that she might find acceptable as she was unlikely to enjoy the thought of his own bodily warmth. There were warmer lands of course to the south, but it was unlikely she would survive such a trek. Perhaps… “If you want I could escort you to the Peak.” His large head gesturing to the north where that towering peak was still alight in the fading sun before he looked back to her. “It is led by strong women who could protect you, give you a safe place to raise yer youngin’ if it comes to that.” For a moment he chewed his lip, fighting the resurgence of guilt and anger that roiled within him until another thought crossed his mind. “The path up the mountain can be steep though, the only other shelter I can offer is the overhang in the cliff face. It’s where I spend most nights, just ‘round the corner there the trees with the rock give cover from the worst of the wind.”

It wouldn’t do much against the temperatures, but it would allow him to keep an eye on her something which he doubted the Peak mares would be so inclined to extend to him. The urge to protect her, to ensure she was alright had grown surprisingly strong in the short time he had been spectator to her despair and strength for he had seen both in spades. “It is your choice.” This much he can offer her, in a world where choice had been so forcefully stripped from her life. She could direct him to stay or go, to take her to a place of secured safety or shelter in his own makeshift home, she could tell him to eat dirt and he may damn well do it if only to allow her that semblance of control. “I’m Bondurant, by the way.” So inconsequential in the face of everything else, but perhaps a touch of feigned normalcy would help.