Falls

fearghas

The melancholy beast in Fearghas' breast recognizes a kindred soul in the dark-colored stallion and hovers with claws poised over the spotted stallion's heart. It would be easy to obsess over Ally, to allow himself to spend his days imagining all of the what-if scenarios that could have been, if he'd been a different man and it had been a different time. A part of him sorely wants to do it. To dwell on happier times, rather than the bleakness of the present, but he resists.

Kendry and Rade together have planted a seed in his mind, one that keeps growing despite his attempts to smother it. Real, drastic change needed to be made. If it had been only himself victimized by Cullen's cruelty, he would have bore the brunt of it with a turned cheek and not said a word. But it was not just him. Not even just Ally. All of his brothers in the Peak wore their prisoner's chains day after day, awaiting the day when their leader would come to rescue him.

But it was a day that would never come.

Cullen didn't care about them, even though they were imprisoned directly because of their loyalty to him. Their refusal to elect someone else had been their downfall, and yet Cullen refused to care. If nothing else showed Fearghas how little Cullen cared for his lost brethren, the fact that he sent a young, inexperienced young colt to the Peak to bargain on his behalf was proof enough.

He tries not to dwell, not too much. The last thing he wants to do is to scare away this stranger with grand talk of uprisings and revolts and change.

"Pleasure tae meet ye then, Gael." Fearghas offers in response to his greeting, his own mottled lips quirking upward into a lopsided grin. Gael. Much less of a mouthful than Aallotar and no need for a nickname, but the memory of her face when he had christened her flashes briefly in his mind. Would he always compare things to her? Would each toss of the wind, each new scenario bring up some reminder?

As if reading his thoughts, the dark and handsome stranger drills to the heart of the issue, pulling the truth out of his mind. With an apologetic grimace, the young spotted stallion drops his head momentarily, breaking the eye contact that had suddenly grown too insightful, and thus painfully intrusive.

"Aye, it's that obvious then?" He offers with a bitter chuckle and a lash of his dark tail. After a beat he raises his gaze back up to Gael and bobs his head slightly before elaborating. "S'just recent, y'know? I canna seem to get her owt of my head. I canna stop wonderin' what she's doin' and who she's with, even though I ken that the lucky bloke is probably better for'er."

The same bittersweet smile dusts his lips, but it fades quickly. "Ye said that like a man who kens the feeling. Who is it that you miss, if ye dinna mind my askin?"

stallion . 3 years . 15.2 hands . smoky black blanket . loveinspired . credit