From that deep darkness into which Nuka felt himself slipping, something tiny and fragile but determined drew him into wakefulness, and bade him open his eyes and lift his head and shake off some of the detached despair he wore so well. The tiny, weak filly beside him was trying to find her feet. Nuka blinked, and then stared, transfixed, oblivious to the way the muscles in his neck protested at his twisting around so sharply as he had so he could look at her.
The wounded and wary heart of his stuttered in his chest.
For a moment, he panicked internally, wondering if he should reach forwards to help her up, or carefully gather his own legs beneath him to rise and retreat and give her more room. (His heart and his head…) Nuka just couldn’t bring himself to move away, not now that he’d felt the warmth of her tucked into his side. And though he wanted nothing more than to reach out and help her, as he’d desperately needed someone to help him when he was only months-old himself… Nuka needed her to do this part on her own, if they were to have a chance at journeying to find someone to care for her.
But he wouldn’t leave her, not now. He couldn’t.
“Tha’s it, yer doin’ great. Slow ‘n steady-like, yeah?” The sable stallion did his best to keep his rough and rumbling voice soft and warm. “ ‘m righ’ here, I ain’ gonna leave you.” And though she wouldn’t yet understand the meaning of his words, Nuka spoke them anyway, the conviction of them breathing life into embers that had slowly been growing cold. |