"when there are no words,
and everything hurts…"
Rhadra. Rhadra
Her name was so beautiful, and Dalibor felt his lips twitch with longing. If only he could speak it, just this one word, this one name… He’d gather Rhadra close, linger in the embrace, and press his muzzle to her ear, whisper warm and low in her ear, a deep and heartfelt utterance.
Rhadra.
As it was, he’d never be able to do such a thing, and this was an accursed truth that he’d forever be burdened with. The frustration burned him still, but the tranquillity of the ebony mare’s presence was enough (more than enough) to temper his anger. If only this could last forever. But Dalibor, whatever else he may be, was no fool. It never ended well. The only one who’d not been deterred by his silence was Dances With Wolves, but prior to recent events, the two had not seen one another for years. Dalibor was a volatile force, and most either grew tired of not being able to understand him and were deterred from sticking around due to his less than cordial nature, or Dalibor just up and left.
Something about Rhadra was different though.
A gentle snort was issued and Dalibor reached out to nudge her cheek as she stood beside him, hips pressed together, shoulders quivering in anticipation. With a toss of his head, Dalibor stepped towards the grove, Rhadra moving beside him. It was a gentle urgency that carried him swiftly onwards, only slowing to step away from the dark woman beside him and turn aside a springy evergreen branch, revealing a hidden hollow. With a low nicker, Dalibor invited Rhadra to slip past him and enter, and once she had, Dalibor would follow close behind.
The small, enclosed space was heavy with his scent alone. It was where he spent the lonely nights, and even passed some of his days here in solitude. But he wasn’t alone now. Dalibor drew close to Rhadra, hesitant at first, but that quickly faded as he placed soft, lingering kisses down the line of her neck, and drew in gentle breaths of her intoxicating scent. Though neither of them could hear it, and Dalibor had no way to tell her (at least, not with words), Rhadra had set his wounded heart to singing, and months from now, he would remember this night, and how a beautifully broken stranger had healed his troubled soul and damaged heart.