The purpose of Fell’s attempts to vocalize was never to invoke pity out of anyone, but that was sometimes the case all the same. Nine times out of ten, the response was either pity or disgust, or some mixture of the two. Fell always expected disgust, and usually assumed it was hiding beneath the pity.

If the roan mare was hiding disgust somewhere, Fell could not tell. He was no fool as to think she would allow him to see all her feelings, but among the ones she did express for him to see, he would have expected disgust to be displayed, rather than graciously hidden — but he didn’t see it there. Instead, she tucked her head to her chest, dropping her gaze.

Fell waited. He thought now was the time to say something like ‘it’s okay, I’m used to it, it’s actually probably better this way,’ if he could, but the silence stretched on as he gazed at the sabino mare in front of him.

Finally, she sighed, and her eyes raised to examine him. Fell’s own eyes hadn’t left her since approaching on the beach, though he hadn’t actually looked until he felt the weight of her stare. Without really meaning to, he reciprocated her appraisal, taking the time to actually look at her up close, building up a more accurate perception of her in his mind than the unremarkable blue-grey shape he always saw in the distance. Up close, she was a silvery color, with dark eyes in a chiseled, white-splashed face. Her nose was pink with the cold. Fell wondered what she saw in him, now; was she doing the same thing, replacing the shadowy smudge in her mind’s eye with a more detailed depiction of him?

There was a long silence, and it was Fell’s turn to wonder if the roan mare would ever break it. She did, and with a different tone than Fell had ever heard from her in their very limited conversations. I suppose you think I hate you. Fell’s ears flipped forward, curiosity pulling their tips together in a dark halo over his stoic face. The way she phrased it made it sound like she didn’t hate him; and she was right, he did assume she hated him.

He didn’t have to wonder for long, as the words began to tumble out of the silvery girl. Fell listened, unable to interrupt even if he had wanted to, but he did not want to. He stood still, taking in the slight quaver in her voice as she finished. The shine of tears did not go unnoticed, either, though he did not think he had any other choice than to respectfully ignore them.

It… wasn’t her fault. Fell might have been new to herd politics and their social counterparts, but he was smart enough to know that a lone mare with a young child would only ever act in her child’s best interest. Frustration twisted in Fell’s gut — had he only been able to say something to the roan mare on the mountain that day, things might have been so different. But his silence wasn’t his fault, either.

He wasn’t sure what to do now. He wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do. Whether or not he was correct, the black stallion felt certain the sabino mare would not appreciate any comfort from him; in any case, he was poorly experienced in the art of comforting, even if she did want it from him. It seemed extra cruel to attempt to drive her back to the herd now, too, but he couldn’t just leave her here on the beach. Not with her child coming so soon, and not with the pained (and lonely?) expression on her face.

He gave her a moment of space while he weighed his options, until finally he stretched out his nose with a silent whicker, his breath coming out in thin tendrils of steam in the cool air. It was an invitation, rather than a command, and he hoped she accepted it. If she did not, the decision between pushing her and abandoning her on the beach would be even more difficult.

Fell half-turned up the narrow sliver of cold sand, his neck curled back to watch the silvery mare, and waited to see if she would follow.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.