fearghas

In truth, leaving was proving harder than he'd thought. With no purpose to guide him and the election results hanging in the air, he was loathe to leave the only home he'd ever known, and yet the sight of the brackish water and moss-laden trees sent him scurrying away each time.

He'd vowed that today would be his last day on the Mainland. That this would be the last time he would look upon the Lagoon. That no matter what, he would move on in his search to find Ally. Cullen had been vague when he'd said that Ally was gone, and Fearghas had taken this to mean that she'd wanted to leave as quickly as possible in order to avoid him. Why else would she flee before he could even give her a proper goodbye? Nothing else made any sense to him, and he knew that he deserved her ire.

He'd been the one to put her into this mess, and then the one to muck it up further by following her to the Common. And then, as the cherry on top, he'd tried to censor her in front of Kendry, as though he did not trust her instincts. She had no reason to think kindly of him, nor any reason, as he could see it, to want to see him again. But he had to know. He had to know that she was safe and that his sacrifice had been worth it.

Then he could rest easily and focus on the blank void that was his future.

A flicker of quicksilver catches his gaze and he orients to it as though drawn by a magnet, disbelief coloring his face. For a long moment he only stares, utterly flabbergasted to see her here now. He answers her call woodenly, his voice low with worry.

Hurriedly he rushes forward, his gaze darting uneasily to the surrounding foilage. As much as he is afraid to hear her censure, to remove the insulating layer of doubt between her hatred and his perception, he is more afraid of Cullen and what the villain might do to her if he saw her here again.

"Ally," his voice is hesitant, and he half-reaches for her only to withdraw in memory of her subtle shrug away from him at their last encounter. "Ye canna be here. If Cullen sees ye, he'll take ye prisoner again."

Temptation eventually overrides his fear and he aligns himself to her side, shuddering at the closeness of the silvery mare. Fall had returned, and with it, she had become even more intoxicating than normal. Gently, he offers his muzzle again, worry clouding the dark shadows in his eyes. Words, held down by their absence for so long, bubble to the surface, despite the fact that now is hardly the time nor the place for such confessions. "I'm so glad ter see you again, I'm sorry I was such an ass before."

Questions jostle like bumper cars in his mind. Where had she been? Who had she been with? Did she know what he'd done? Was she here because of what he'd done? Would she go with him? Did she hate him?

Each one elbowed for position with no clear winner, leaving him standing there like a dolt for a long moment before he shakes himself out of it and gestures hurriedly to the edge of the Lagoon. "We gots ter go Ally. Cullen will kill us if'n he sees us together again. Or," doubt clouds his brow again, and a sick sort of drop in his stomach forces a swallow of nervousness. "I mean, ye can stay if ye want to. But Cullen won't like that ye got free of whoever he sent ye ter. Or," it occurs to him that she might be coming back here freely, under the "permission" of whoever now lay claim to her. "Well," he says, the words flustered and heat rising in his cheeks. "I mean ter say it's not safe here fer me now, and I'd like ye ter come with me, but I can understand if'n you'd rather not. And I'll support ye either way, Ally," vulnerability glimmers in his eyes as he raises them to meet hers again. "I mean it."

stallion . 3 years . 15.2 hands . smoky black blanket . loveinspired . credit