cold feet
Gaudalupe was filled with gladness upon seeing Valentine approach, and stepped towards him as he extended his muzzle, meeting him halfway. She was silent for several moments, watching him look over their two foals, and a smile settled on her lips and made itself comfortable. She dipped her head as he spoke, agreeing wholeheartedly. They were beautiful, oh, they were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Slowly, the panic that had taken hold of her was slipping away. They were all fine, and she got to watch her boy (and her girl) grow up.
“Ah, yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she was quick to reassure the bay and white stallion, and felt a little foolish for having alarmed him. But, to fear for her child wasn’t foolish, even if she had mistaken something harmless as something dangerous. She was remembering – this was part of being a mother. And, her eyes going to Valentine again, she picked up no trace of annoyance, and she understood, then, that Valentine felt the same. The look in his eyes did not tell her that she was a fool. All she saw there was concern, and joy.
“I didn’t know such a thing was possible,” she admitted softly. “I have never come across such a thing, in all my travels. At least, not an occurrence without loss of life.” She leaned down to breath in the scent of her son, her daughter, her heart swelling with love. “I saw… My mother, she died when I was young, after bringing my little brother into this world. He didn’t last long, and I…” she trailed off, shaking her head gently, her inky forelock falling in her eyes. “I was afraid for him,” she admitted, her glance dipping to the colt.
For a moment, she was entirely focused on her foals, trusting that Valentine would keep an eye out for danger if any were to come. The filly, she still seemed uncertain, not quite trusting her legs yet. She steadied the girl, and then trailed her muzzle over her son’s back, and then drew back, her deep, dark eyes seeking Valentine’s. “I hope you don’t mind that I named them already,” she murmured. “I was dreaming about my homeland, and after… I looked at the lives we had made, and I found two words upon my breath.”
Muzzle touched the back of her daughter, and the little filly twisted around, looking at Guadalupe before her attention shifted to Valentine. Having had her fill of milk, the filly wobbled over to her father, eyes bright, but her manner a little shy. She seemed, not to be uncertain of Valentine, but uncertain of herself. “Sefarina,” Guadalupe named her. “For the valley where I was born.” And where her brother had died. Life had been taken that day, only to be given back now. “And Bleddyn,” she turned, and glanced at her son, who, also having satisfied his hunger, stood near her side. Her gaze lingered on him as she spoke, and her voice was warm, and full, and so alive. “To honour the one who set me on the path that led me here, to this place. In some ways he made me who I am today, and I have come far, remembering everything he told me…” She trailed off, her smile turning a little wistful, before she twitched an ear, her mind no longer in the past, but here and now, focusing on Valentine.
“I want to thank you, Valentine,” Guadalupe’s voice was raw and honest. “For allowing me to wander as I have. You and yours have respected me greatly, by letting me linger undisturbed, and I will not forget this.” The black mare was silent a moment, her gaze shifting her focus beyond the bay stallion, to the figures in the distance, and the long grasses and lone trees of the plain that was Valentine’s home. “I just… Needed to be sure of myself,” she began, trying to explain. Something about Valentine told her that she didn’t need to explain herself, not to him. But she wanted to. “You see, I loved that Valley with all my heart, however I knew that there was somewhere better for me, out there. And someone I loved very much understood that, so he told me to listen to what was in my heart.” Her gaze lifted to the sky, and she drew comfort from its expansiveness. The sky was always changing, and yet it was always the sky. The same one she’d been born under, what felt like half a world away.
“So I did, and for years I have wandered the land, never lingering long, falling in love with many places, seeing so many things, but still never feeling like I belonged.” A few moments of silence, and then her dark brown eyes sought out Valentine’s. “I’ve been here on the Islands for nearly two years, now. Spent much of my time on the Crossing before I followed you here, and I wasn’t sure if I would stay.” She drew in a deep breath, and the smile returned in full force. “I just needed time, but I know, now, that this is where I want to be. No more wandering for me. We’ve found a home,” her gaze dipped to the two little ones, and her eyes were bright and warm, full of her love for them. “I will be glad for that day for the rest of my life, Valentine. The day we met.”
even though your fire
always seemed to light my fear of the dark
|