"But if we go together," Kikka tries again as she follows Trell across the meadow. He halts so suddenly she runs into his hindquarters with a little oof, and just as quickly he resumes his long stride.
"No," he says. "I told you before. It’s better to split up to gather the most information we can as quickly as possible. Feel the air right now— it’s getting cold, Kikka, and it’ll only get colder. I’m not fucking wandering around for another winter just the two of us."
The silence following this statement is so unusual he glances over his shoulder at his twin. Her chin is tucked, eyes downcast. He waits, but she offers nothing. He has no idea what she’s thinking. Probably some nonsense about snowkittens and how sparkly winter is, and how it wouldn’t be “that bad” if it was just the two of them. He’s surprised she wasn’t literally attached to his hip when he was born; she’s so fucking clingy.
His tone becomes cajoling. "I just want to make sure we find a place before winter forces us to make a hasty decision." He glances at the gray sky and huffs a resigned exhale. Then he rewords her suggestion as if he just came up with the idea himself. "At this rate, though, I suppose it’s too late. You were a long time on Tinuvel and now winter’s nearly here. How about this," he says, and slows so he is walking beside her. A gentle bump of his shoulder against hers earns him a quick upwards glance from under her long lashes— she’s a cute thing, for all the inanity bumbling around inside her head. That could be useful, later. He’ll have to teach her how to utilize her femininity to his —ahem, their— best advantage. "Since winter’s pretty much already closing in, we’ll take the next island together until the season turns. Then split up again to finish checking out the rest, and then we’ll come together and decide where to stay. Is that acceptable?" he asks, except it isn’t a question at all. She glances up at him again and nods her head, and when he prompts her with "Kikka," and a note of warning in his voice, she does speak.
"Yes."
"Good." Brusque again, Trell resumes his ground-eating pace and pulls ahead of her.
Kikka trails along behind him, but not too far. She’s thinking about Tinuvel, and Zevu, and the faraway-someday when she’ll get to spend a year in a land like a fairytale. It probably won’t be soon; Trell wouldn’t want to winter anywhere where the cold and the snow dominate the land. She feels some anxiety wondering how he’ll get along with her pale friend— what if they don’t like each other? Trell was already suspicious about how long it took her to explore the island, and when she told him about her guide he accused her of liking Zevu better than him and lingering on purpose just to flirt. As if! She had flushed with shame and tried to dispel that belief, but Trell had sulked and turned such hurt eyes on her that she’d spent the rest of the afternoon grooming him thoroughly and speaking only of their future together to convince him her heart was still his.
She glances up at him now as he moves so confidently across the meadow. She has no idea where he’s leading her, but as always she follows without question. She has very carefully not considered whether or not his accusations about her experience on Tinuvel hold any merit; Zevu is, of course, only a friend. No one can replace Trell. She wishes he believed her; his demeanor today indicates he’s still smarting about her supposed disloyalty.
Trell veers suddenly and she corrects her direction, shaking her small head to dispel the gray cloud that threatens to settle over her mind as she jogs to catch up with her twin. He’s approaching a couple of horses standing under one of the lone trees spread out across the meadow. They look to be the same breed, though one’s coat mimics the rosy tones of sunset while the other displays the dark blue of early dawn. She wonders if they’re twins, too.
Trell is speaking as she draws up beside him, and both Kiger mustangs extend their noses at the same time to offer to mingle their ghosting breaths with the other two. "Getting a bit brisk out here," Trell says. He and Kikka pull their heads back in tandem and then shift their weight together to cock their hind left feet, their mimicry of one another completely unconscious. "You don’t mind if we crowd in here with you, do you? For warmth. We’re a little unused to the cold, still," he explains with a small smile. "Thin coats." This is her favorite side of Trell: when he socializes he seems an entirely different horse, sometimes, all smiles and jokes and companionability. It’s much rarer for him to be in such a mood when it’s just the two of them. She treasures those days.
Kikka focuses on the present and smiles at the mare and stallion pair, and since her brother has finished speaking she knows it’s her turn. "This is Trell, and I’m Kikka. You two complement each other very well. Your colors, I mean," she smiles shyly. "Are you twins too?"
"Kikka," Trell rebukes her quietly, but his voice is warm with brotherly affection. She feels this means he’s beginning to forgive her, and offers him a dazzling smile as she moves to lean her weight against him. She loves him so fiercely. If only he could feel how sorry she is for upsetting him, and know as inherently as she does that he’s the only one who matters to her. Kikka leans a little more and feels him adjust his stance to accept her weight. |