face down in the desert now
there’s a cage locked around my heart
Dances turned, his eyes brightening already as the sound of Nephilim’s voice reached him. He winced, though, the smile that spread across his lips shrinking as he saw the bruises blossoming like watermarks across the body of his friend. He dipped his gaze, hating himself for just a moment because maybe if he’d been a better swimmer, if he’d been braver and hadn’t hesitated so long on the beach, then he could have been there sooner. Stopped those blows from landing. Forced the enemy back, maybe. Or have stepped between them. But… Nephilim seemed nothing but glad to see him. Didn’t question what had taken so long. There was no suspicion or doubt in his golden eyes. That was something. It meant the young stallion held nothing against him.
Nephilim’s words touched Dances With Wolves deeply. A sad and simple ‘sorry’ had been ready to leap off his tongue, but the other male spoke first, and then Dances felt as though there was nothing, nothing he had to apologise for. And there was the strangest thought, the most peculiar kind of feeling… Nephilim was one that he’d never have to apologise to, not for anything. Maybe Nephilim would understand him, better than most. Dances believed these things, for he knew that he would never do anything to hurt Nephilim. He’d never betray the one who’d showed him kindness, who had turned back and called for him. I never intended to leave you. These were words he would never forget (just like he’d never forget the words of the dreamer who had stolen a piece of his heart, not far from the place he’d sworn he’d never set foot in again). That meant the only things he’d have to apologise for were his own mistakes, weaknesses, failures. But somehow, Dances felt, he wouldn’t even have to say a word. Not to Nephilim.
“I-I know,” the painted colt replied, his voice a little rough from the seawater (and his emotions). “I’m sorr--” Hesitation, and then better words, ones spoken with a hint of confidence. “I wasn’t so good at keeping up,” he explained. The Forest had been so similar, and yet so different, from the areas he had roamed on the Crossing. “And I… Lost my nerve on the beach…” Dances lowered his gaze, and glanced back towards the salty waves, just short of reaching the two of them. The only wound he’d sustained was a bite to his neck from the stallion of the Prairie. The day that had passed since he’d been bitten, as well as the saltwater (and the gentle touch from Jökulrós) had washed it clean. Standing here with Nephilim, Dances With Wolves had already begun to heal.
And just as Dances didn’t need to say sorry, neither did Nephilim need to say thank you. But Dances was grateful for it anyway, and, turning back to the young spotted stallion, he reached out to gently bump Nephilim’s nearest shoulder, taking care to avoid any bruises. “I only did what was right,” he said softly, blue eyes meeting gold. They both knew it was more than that though. The y had found one another, and had been there for one another when it mattered most. The both of them had no-one else. By the looks of it though, that was about to change for Nephilim. He had established himself here, and there were a number of scents on the wind that Dances did not recognise. It made him feel warm, despite the cool water on his skin, a warmth that came not from above, but from within. The bay tobiano boy was deeply happy for Nephilim. If what he’d witnessed first-hand on Luthien was anything to go by, Nephilim deserved better. And maybe ‘better’ was here, and now. Maybe ‘better’ came in the form of the faceless horses further inland that were lucky enough to have someone like the palomino leopard stallion looking out for them. Maybe ‘better’ was a new start, far, far away from the monsters on the far isle.
“Um, yes… I’m okay. I just…” Dances struggled with his words and his feelings, the sting of the betrayal hurting him anew. But Nephilim hadn’t asked so that he’d hurt more. He asked, because he cared, because he wanted to know. Maybe, just as Jökulrós had known that silence would help him on the beach of the Forest, Nephilim discerned that breaking that silence on the beach of the Bay would help him now. “I went into the sea, because I… I know what its like to be alone, and I wanted you to have someone by your side, wherever it was you were going, whatever it was you’d face… But I also… I needed to see if my moth – If Guadalupe was okay.” And he tried to smile, because it wasn’t the foals’ fault. They hadn’t asked to be born, and it wasn’t they who had torn Dances’ heart. “Turns out, she’s more than alright. She has a home now, and a big, happy family. I’m just… Not a part of it. I should’ve known better.” The words he spoke were heavy, but he felt lighter having let them go.
i found a way to drop the keys where my failures were
Dances With Wolves |