The giant allowed himself to be led by Sterre, and was grateful when she made no comment. They travelled the short distance to the shelter of the trees in silence, and remained in silence for some time afterward. Though the relief of knowing he could now sulk away from prying eyes was palpable, his desire to talk about what had happened was still nonexistent.
A freezing winter breeze cut through the trees, buffeting Het Vuur’s still-wet body and drawing from him a sudden attack of undignified shivers. It was a simple reflex, yet for him it only served to cement the notion that he no longer belonged in the cold, and that the sprawling tundra of Tinuvel had no place for him any more. Winter is pushing me away, he mused, as he leaned his great weight against the lean trunk of a young tree.
All the same, he knew that the old Het Vuur would not have stood for such nonsense. In his mind’s eye he could imagine a younger version of himself sneering down at him with fire in his eyes. You’re pathetic, young Het Vuur growled at him. The world decides you are a useless old man, and you believe them. You could have taken Soljor, and you know it. Even blind, you could have torn him to sheds if you’d wanted to. But no, instead of getting back up and continuing to fight, you allowed yourself to be humiliated. Coward.
But even as he heard the old Het Vuur say it, the voice faded and faded until it was little more than a breath on the wind. He was not the same horse he used to be. His days of rage and passion were over. He was tired of fighting it.
“Hetty.”
He had almost forgotten he was not alone. Sterre’s voice was quiet, so quiet he might have missed it had he not managed to pull himself out of his reverie in time. He flicked an ear in her direction, but otherwise did not move from where he leaned against the tree with one rear hoof cocked. A heavy sigh blew from his nostrils. It seemed there was no end to Sterre’s pity for him these days. It was tiresome.
“Don’t,” he said, a hint of warning in his gruff voice. “There’s no point. Don’t waste your breath.”
HET VUUR
†.
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