And so, without being granted time to ponder, the young prince made his choice. And it tore him apart inside, though he would not feel the ragged, weeping wound until it was much too late…
——
Everything about the red mare endears her to the stallion. If he were anything but what he was, he might seek to take advantage, but not even the consideration to do such a thing came up into his heart. He regretted the way her shoulders slumped at his initial reaction, and did not miss the way her gaze was briefly cast down, so that her eyes were hidden by her lashes.
“It is my mistake,” he insisted gently, wishing to help her shake the uncertainty from her slender shoulders. “To stand so still while the world around me moves ever onward, stopping for nothing, and no-one.” It was definitely easy for the soul to become wistful thinking about it, but right now, that was something the golden stallion couldn’t afford to indulge in. Didn’t want to, not in front of the sweet, softly spoken mare before him.
“My mistake, but hardly a misfortune,” he said with a crooked half-smile, keen not to antagonise his throbbing lip further, at least until he had a chance to wash the salt from the wound. With a bow of his head, and a gentle bend of a knee, he silently expressed his thanks, and acquiescing to her lead, followed where she led him.
When they reached the stream,for a moment the stallion hovered over it. The water was shallow, and ran quickly, so that his reflection was hidden from him. A soft, huffed sigh, and tilted his head to gaze downstream, but did not allow the flow to bear him away. He bowed his head to slake his thirst, and finally, finally the stinging of his lip abated, allowing him a small measure of peace.
“I am glad to have met you, Raksha,” Shangri-La said, even as he was still lifting his chin from the water, not wanting to delay a moment longer in delivering his gratitude (which ran ever so much deeper than the water running past them). “And I am thankful for your kindness.” The smile he offered now was not restrained in any way, even though he still winced at the persistent protest from his torn mouth.
The great silhouette in the distance turned him a little somber, and his golden eyes settled upon Raksha’s face, soft and sad. “Please, if I can ask for more from you - tell me about the mountain.” And even as the words left his lips, his eyes were drawn to the north, to that rising peak that demanded his attention, so that he was helpless to turn aside from it now.
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