“No- Don’t!-” But the stubborn thing was already pushing herself up, and Zevulun tensed as he worriedly watched every awkward, clearly painful movement she put herself through to stand. Exasperated, he watched her as she further spat venom at him, and struggled to remind himself that she was just scared. When he’d said her name, she hadn’t known it. He would be lashing out at anyone trying to be near him right now, too…
"Why can I not take care of myself on this shore?"
Zevulun snorted. “You’re joking, right?” His ice-blue eyes looked at her pointedly, dropped down along her body and back up to her face. He tried not to feel the punch to his gut at seeing her so wounded. Zevulun stomped his hoof down and forced himself to keep a level voice as he explained, “The foals from last season aren’t easy pickings anymore for the mountain cats and the wolves and the bears, they’ve gotten bigger and can fight back... but you? Who knows how long it’s been since they’ve managed to get themselves a kill? How hungry do you think they will be when they come across you?”
In spite of his desire to maintain a calm tone, his voice shook toward the end. He thought of his father, chased into the sea by a mad wolf, having to rear up and kill it in the stinging, cold surf of Tinuvel just to get it to leave him be. Or, washed up from the storm and sicked upon by a prowling mountain cat? He could not and would not let that happen to her.
“Please,” he said, a stressful strain in his voice. His blue eyes pleaded with her bi-colored ones. “I will not leave you alone here.” Firmly said. By any means, no matter how cruel she was to him, Zevulun was not going to leave her side. However many days he needed to stay with her, here he would. He didn’t care. Zevulun wasn’t going to lose her again. If he helped her remember herself and she recalled a lover or some other reason she couldn’t stay with him, she could go… but not now. Not while she needed him more than ever.
He remembered, then, that she’d mockingly asked him where “here” was. Zevulun cleared his throat… if he told her familiar things, would he find the key to helping her remember who she was? “This is Crossing Isle,” he said, watching her carefully, hoping for some sign of recognition… but to forget oneself completely… Zevulun wondered what it would take to find her again. “We’re in the Commons. Which is another big problem for you, a defenseless, injured pretty young mare alone here,” he said pointedly, “considering it’s autumn. Territory leaders forcibly claim horses they want to live in their home with them here.” He explained, like he wasn’t doing exactly that to her now.
It was different. He was the only one who could help her.
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