fearghas

He felt like a failure. When he had claimed Ally on one of his first few days in the Lagoon, it had been out of a desire for company and companionship more than anything. Considering there were no other stallions around, and he knew that he was above forcing a mare, it hadn't occurred to him that living in the swampy territory would be a risk for her. To know that he had brought her to a place that thought giving up a child was an acceptable trade for her freedom made him sick to his stomach and he had taken to glumly picking at the grass shoots with no real appetite when he sensed movement from the corner of his eye.

Fearghas tried exist close but not on top of Ally since the incident in the Commons, desperate to protect her from Cullen and any others like him but keenly away of how much he had failed her. He had brought her here. He had put her in this position. He was responsible for this whole mess and he had no idea how to fix it. A sorry wouldn't cover enough ground to even begin to cover it, and yet he didn't know what to say.

He had watched spring roll over the crossing and his stomach had remained tight with nerves anticipating the challenge for Ally any day now. Fearghas would have liked to give her the gift of her freedom, but Cullen had made it abundantly clear that neither one of them was free to go anywhere. He didn't mind overmuch for himself, in truth. Especially if it meant that Ally could go free.

There had been one shining, glorious minute where he had imagined a different life for them. A life where Ally wouldn't feel the need to hide and they could spend real time bonding together in this mythical Ridge place that Faolain described, but he had shoved those thoughts as deep down as he could. And had done the same each time a small light of hope ghosted through his dreams. Ally belonged in the Ridge, not him. And he would see it done, somehow.

Tentatively, the spotted stallion headed toward her, his head held low and eyes apologetic. He had apologized for the Crossing immediately after they had returned and Cullen had reluctantly left them, but the urge to do so again, and again each time that he saw her was strong. "Hi Ally."

His gaze sparks hopefully as he draws to a stop but immediately falls as he sees her face. He is always happy to see her, but seeing the tear trails down her cheeks sobers him and intensifies the guilt that he was already submerged in. "I'm real sorry lass. I'll make it right, I promise ye."

Tentatively he reached out as if to comfort her but thought better of it. Considering the familiar way that Cullen had rubbed his body all over her, the last thing she probably wanted was physical touch. "Ye can beat me up for it if it'd make ye feel any better. I deserve it fer bringing this on ye anyway."

stallion . 2 years . 15.2 hands . smoky black blanket . loveinspired . credit