Meadow

Rivaini

Perhaps she should have expected the response the spotted stallion offered, his voice somehow managing to hold firm and strong even amidst the swirling winds. Bondurant had already proven himself as much a bleeding heart and would-be hero as she was, maybe even more. Saving her life. Positioning himself to take the brunt of the blizzard's abuse. And now seeking to free Rivaini from the burden of her guilt by assuring her that her brother had chosen his own path - as if he would have let himself be comforted by such words. A dubious snort was exhaled into the warm skin of his neck, but the silver bay did not express her skepticism beyond that. She didn't need to - they were more alike than two apparently contrasting creatures had any right to be.

There was one difference that the auburn mare's silence illustrated, however - Rivaini was not so desperate to escape her own pain that she sought refuge in another's. Curiosity might have tugged at the threads of her thoughts, but she did not indulge it by asking the questions that her lips yearned to form. Not that she held it against Bondurant; it was evident that the brute had his own demons to live with not only from the words he spoke, but also from the way that he spoke them. Perhaps in another ten years, she too would prefer someone else's grief to her own. Perhaps she would also be trying so desperately to escape herself that she might seek that solace in a stranger, even unthinkingly.

After all, how much damage could a heart take and continue beating?

Her eyes squeezed shut against the unforgiving forces of the storm, Bondurant's gentle touch caught the smaller creature unaware. One second she felt the cold tickle of her own tears freezing to her skin - the next, an exhale of hot breath had thawed them, freeing them to continue their descent. But the heat that Rivaini felt went beyond this physical sensation; a warm glow had flared to life in the mare's chest, a radiance that she had previously only felt in Iscariot's presence. Whatever mistakes he might've mad that haunted him to this day, Bondurant was good and pure in the depths of his being - much like her brother. And as his light fell on all the most distant corners of her heart, the silver bay was confronted with two truths: that even in the brevity of their time together, she had come to care for this stranger.

And that it would never, ever be enough to heal either of them.

Instead of allowing this truth to dissuade her, Rivaini decides to embrace it. If they are both condemned to their suffering, then surely there could be nothing wrong with taking relief from one another in this moment they've been gifted. And so slowly she begins to trace the tense lines of muscle in Bondurant's neck with the soft skin of her muzzle, a gesture not unlike one a mare might use to quiet her restless foal. As she did, Rivaini's coppery skin trembled sympathetically each time she felt a shudder beneath the stallion's spotted coat - though whether his reaction was caused by emotion or the cold, she could not say.

Just as she could not say how long they had stood here, or how much longer they had before the respite the storm had brought them passed.

mare / five / silver bay tobiano / andalusian mix / 15.3hh