He is the maker, he is the taker.
_________ He is the saviour, he is the raper


His wish was granted. Someone did stop him from leaving, but it wasn't who he wanted. He turns his head to look behind him, seeing as a small, graying mare was slowly exposed from the trees. His heart races and for a split second he hopes it's Briar or Winter. That the gray was only due to their aging, but the voice does not match any of them and his hope is crushed as quickly as it had been sprung to life.

He turns his body to fully face her as she continues to speak. Where's the off button on this thing? He is impatient with her already, but her last words spark an intense and unusual interest. “Briar? Yes, I came here looking for her. Is she still here?” His voice is high, considering how deep and rustic it normally is. He stares at the little mare with such emotion pooling behind his eyes.

Please be alive, Briar. Please be alive. He steps closer, removing any and all space that she left between them. His usual demeanor towards an unknown mare has vanished. He was not stalking this one. Or looking to ruin her life with one of his children. No, Governor was genuinely there .. wanting to talk to her and nothing more. “She's alright, isn't she?” He can't bring himself to say the word dead. He doesn't want to.