Gael does not remember his father and his mother is a lonesome memory he tries to forget. She is a ghost he desperately tries to exorcise from his thoughts. He’d never known companionship until he met Corinth, she had shown him that he could be more than a murderer. More than the villainous blood that ran in his veins from centuries of monsters, his lineage was a disgrace.

Comprised of thieves, killers, and sometimes, even cannibals – he does not speak their names anymore, he tries to bury them.

He was a mutt. A conglomeration of many breeds. Most prominent was the Arabian in the shape of his face and the delicate nature of his limbs. His neck was thick like a Mustang. His muscular, long back reminiscent of the Warmblood in his ancestry. Gael was many things and he was nothing.

This sleek mare is thoughtful but her answers are not what he had hoped for. Perhaps, he was wistful enough to think Corinth was still in her beloved Peaks – maybe he was dumb enough to think she had waited for him all this time. She said he was her only love, after all.

“Is your mother here? Can I speak to her?” Gael says and his tone is rushed, hopeful. His dark eyes glimmer, spark with the possibility of what might be.

If he could only find Corinth and their children, put the pieces of his life back together. Gael regrets his decision to leave but all his excuses are lame in comparison, there were no excuses. He looks up at this black mare and he wonders if she can see the fear rising in the depths of his eyes, that to think Corinth is lost forever is almost too much for him.