Desert

The steady flow of their conversation ebbs with their mutual declarations of gratitude, but Chelle’s thoughts are a constant murmur that fills the silence. Falling into step beside the piebald stallion once again, she reflects on the decision that she’d refused to make— on the choice between Cain and Solomon. And though her contentment in the moment isn’t darkened by even the smallest shadow of regret, the cinnamon girl cannot help but to wonder. If she’d followed the pale tobiano, would the first steps that she took in that unknown life mirror the ones that she is taking here? For all that their differences had been emphasized in their rivalry, after all, it is evident in hindsight that the two males share many qualities as well.

Both wear their flaws and strengths openly— facing the judgement of others with a courage that Chelle envies. Both appear comfortable with their place in the world; confident. And both have led her to question her grandsire’s firmest and most oft-repeated lesson: that emotions are a woman’s weakness, and their absence a man’s strength. But the slender mare is not ready to sort the truths of her previous life from the lies, perhaps because she already knows how it will end. For that reason, she is grateful when the sound of her companion’s voice pulls her from her introspection. Tipping one ear sideways to listen to Cain speak, Chelle watches him from the edge of her vision, noting the affection that softens his face when he speaks of his family here in the Desert.

At first, she isn’t entirely certain how to respond to this sliver of himself that the stallion shares. She cannot claim the depth of bond that comes from growing and learning beside another, not even from those she’d left behind her. Nor can she boast the strength and confidence that he clearly admires of this Harlequin— not even enough to choose her own path. Thoughts turning dismal, Chelle dips her head to drink from the oasis as an excuse to hold her silence. But when they resume, she knows that she cannot continue in this forever, and finally settles on a question that she hopes will reveal another glimpse of the puzzle that she has been piecing together. “You mentioned sons as well,” she begins softly, reluctantly; treading carefully around the names that Cain had spoken with such grief. “Do you have many children, then?”

Judas had fielded an empire from his loins, and there were few of his children who had not proven themselves to be just as prolific. And had she remained, the reddish-gold woman knows that she would be carrying a child even now— willing or no. It will be your choice, her mother had murmured comfortingly, but Chelle is not so naive that she doesn’t understand what those words truly meant. The only choice that would have been hers was whether or not she made her betrothed turn to force in order to solidify his claim over her father’s corner of the kingdom. And though she cannot believe Cain capable of such barbarity, she knows that the act of procreation is never absent from a man’s mind. Perhaps he harbors hopes for their future… hopes that knows she will leave in tatters. Because both her breath and her heartbeat quicken in fear at the thought of being claimed by anyone in that way— even a partner as gentle and understanding as Cain.

Fortunately, they have entered the caverns by this time, and the shiver of her freckled coat can easily be blamed on the coolness of the air. Exhaling her breath in a vaporous plume, Chelle turns to the black-and-white stallion with a smile that is only slightly shaky— much like her voice. “Thank you for showing me your home,” she says, words hushed in the cavernous ston hollow that somehow feels sacred. “But as much as I would like this day to last forever, my tired body begs for the reprieve of sleep. I think that I will return to the oasis for tonight, and find my way back to the herd tomorrow.” —and to you, her words leave unspoken but implied, though this potential rebuffal is softened by the brush of her muzzle against his.

“I hope that your dreams will be sweet when they come, Cain. You deserve that much and more.”

And then— turning about in a swirl of auburn hair— she flees back the way that they had come.