It’s the gentle sound of hooves sloshing through water that draws Kune from his reverie. He blinks, and the images of the past tumble away, reminding him that he’s still standing in the same place, his sodden body trembling with shivers as the falls thunder behind him. Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention to the proximity of the mare beside him, and he side-eyes her with uncertainty, shifting his bulk in place. Curiously, she says nothing, only reaches out in silence, her dark eyes seeking his.
He wants to avoid her gaze, to turn away and go where no prying eyes can find him, but something compels him to look at her, and he does. Faintly he is aware of the other mare repositioning herself, but he does not break eye contact with the mare before him. There is such warmth in her gaze, such sympathy, such silent understanding despite the lack of words that have passed between them. It’s as if the spirits have sent her to tell him, It’s all right. You’ll be all right.
He is reminded of the day he and Bozena met, when she had comforted his broken mind and soul, but he pushes the memory away. He cannot think about Bozena now. “I…” he begins in his deep, grumbly monotone, searching his frazzled brain for the right words and grammar. “...Sorry.” Suddenly the intensity of the mare’s gaze is too much, and Kune turns his head away, ears flicking back atop his head. Briefly he catches the eye of the other mare, but he quickly avoids her gaze too. “I go.”
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