Falls

It was cool in the presence of the Falls, the crashing water sending that constant mist dancing through the chilly air of late fall and yet the spotted stallion could not resist its call. Autumn had always been a season of change, and that had proven to be more than true for the restless stallion over the last few months. His life had been slowly returning to him since he stepped hoof back onto the islands and in the wake of his encounter with the fiery woman atop these very falls had sealed that fate. There was more purpose in him now than simply dying in a familiar place, he was once more able to desire more of life and even go so far to think he might deserve a portion of happiness again. It was as odd as it was exhilarating and in the constant cascade of the Falls it allowed him to feel whole.

The near turning of the seasons made it rather solitary as well, few wishing to have their coats dampened by the spray but already his warmblood lineage had begun to thicken his coat in preparation for the winter to come. He would leave a bit soggy perhaps but none the worse for wear, and already he was thinking of heading back to the small copse of trees he had called his makeshift home for nearly a year now when the dark figure came wandering out of the forest around the base of the waterfall. His painted head rose at her sudden appearance, questions dancing in his emerald eyes as she strode without pause into the near-freezing waters of the pool. There was something off about her that he could not quite place, but which called to the more instinctual side of his mind that he had once been such a slave to.

Pushing it down he turned his eyes to the path from which she had emerged, half expecting to see someone following her when a scent hit his dark nostrils. They flared, sucking in more of the unique aroma that only belonged to mares in season; such a unique and heady aroma that for a moment he let his eyes close as he drank it in. How once it had been a siren call, a vice he was unable to resist and though age had tempered much and taught him restraint he was still a stallion after all. Yet as he reveled in it, beginning to think it would be best if he left the silvery woman in his wake, the other pieces of her scent filtered through.

Blood and stallion. His gem like eyes snapped open, fire of a different kind burning in their depths as she forced his gaze back to the brindled mare as she submerged herself into the turbulent waters. Only then did he catch the soft sound of her cries, barely distinguishable over the waters roar and yet they shattered any remnants of the previous impulses that had so briefly flared to life. Someone had hurt her. Bondurant was surely guilty of similar crimes in his time, for a moment the flickering vision of Fleete's pearlescent figure rippled through his memory, and yet perhaps this was a chance at atonement.

He stepped into the shallow water on the edge of the pool, the dark water biting cooly at his feathered hooves and he worried that should she stay too long in these frigid depths she would only fall deeper into the shock that seemed to be overwhelming her. “Miss… are you alright?” The deep baritone of his voice called out loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise that cascaded all around them, but he hoped not too loud as to frighten her off. His mottled head lowered as he looked across the water at her, knowing full well she would be far from ok for some time, and that he was powerless to change the hell she had so recently endured. Perhaps if he had been forced to face the wake of his reckless instincts when he was younger he would not have been burdened with all the mistakes he bore so heavily now.