Amaranthe could guess that Nephiliam was coming to his own conclusions about everything that surrounded her and her appearance on the borders of his land. Whether he was right or wrong, she would let him believe whatever he thought to be true, unless he asked. He was not the only one putting pieces together of each other’s life events. Both of them were intelligent enough to see the solution to a puzzle when only the outline was given. It also seemed as though neither felt the need to confirm, nor deny, the picture they had begun to paint of the other.

The warrior woman could respect their mutual unspoken habit of not discussing what had happened to them in depth. As long as the words that went unspoken were not lies by omission. To work side by side she knew they needed to trust each other both with what they cared to share and what they needed to keep quiet.

Her dark eyes floated over to her son, who was kicking the waves dully and waiting to be called back. A deep breath came from her lungs. The young stallion gave voice to a feeling she had been struggling with since Tithe had first touched the earth, making her long smothered insecurities nip painfully at her heart. ”He was never supposed to be here. He was never supposed to be mine. But he deserved to live. He deserves better.”” Her feathered hoof kicked gently at the rocks of the beach. For as long as she could remember she had been raised to believe that breeding was for strength and status. To the point where she had been told she needed to rise, and her sons would only be kings. Those words always on her mind she had become a mare convinced she would not have children. Others could give birth to greater rulers, and she would defend them. With Tithe, it was a hard adjustment to understand she needed to raise him.

She let out another breath through her nose, not wanting to think about what her son would lack in his life. The affection of a nurturing mother, the understanding of what warmth and love felt like.

”Rest assured.” The mare sighed, returning to safer ground for both of them. She understood the stallion held a bitterness he was not so open to sharing. Upon their first arrival he had even said, ‘I will spare you the sob story’. For a stallion so young and already with so many enemies she could only guess someone out there held an uncalled for bitterness against him. ”Whatever circumstance, there is still some code of honor amongst brutes.” It seemed to her someone along his life line had come near close to breaking it. ”And you will be better than that.” Her tail swished again. ”As Tithe pointed out. Are not alone.”

AMARANTHE

MARE :: FRIESIAN :: 15.3hh :: BLACK