Meadow

The sun had risen over the Meadow, lighting the darkened paths that Solomon had taken here in the night, but providing no further illumination to the tangled weave of his thoughts. The hours he had spent at Sabriel's side had at first offered absolution, and then something deeper, only to be overcast by the fear and doubt when she announced that she was not coming with him back to the Cove.

Even after everything that had happened, she still refused his protection.

Not that she had any reason to trust him, but he had still allowed himself to envision a different future as they had fallen into one another. One in which he could do better for her this time, be better for her. He could protect her from the likes of Cullen, and give her somewhere safe to lay her head. She could foal not on the hard beaches of the Cove, but on the soft pine needles inland where one of his other mares might be able to help. Instead, he was left with a regret that transcended all of the joy their reunion had brought him, and left him with a dull toothache of anxiety. It could all happen again, and he would be just as powerless to stop it. What had he been thinking?

He'd spent the time since their parting in slow but constant motion, his hooves wearing along paths that had once been familiar to him. Just the autumn before, Solomon had spent equal amounts of time on the Crossing and at home. This season, his meandering was tied less to an insatiable drive for procreation, and moreso to a desperate need to clear his head. This of course, made the Crossing island with it's various trails of fertile mares an odd choice, but it suited him.

Solomon had just settled for a break, his gaze far away and unfocused as the beautiful mare danced into view. He does not recognize her, not at first. Not only has he not seen her for over a year, but he has never seen her this happy. In both instances, she had been preoccupied with some task or concern. First, it had been the claiming of Nzingha, and then her worry for her son. Now it seemed that she was unfettered by whatever heavy shackles had chained her down before and he watched with slow-building appreciation as she cavorted across the empty meadow.

It wasn't until her antics brought her face into view that realization dawned upon him and he connected the light-hearted mare before him to the worried mother that he had known her to be. He knows, even before the soft nicker leaves his lips that she will not be best pleased to see him. That she will not have forgiven him for his attempt to 'rescue' her from Roheryn and the dusty Badlands. Despite the fact that he had not offered to harm her, nor her young son, he knew that she will still resent him... and yet he can't not approach her. For as much work as he had done to keep the glass-faced girl out of his thoughts, she still returned sometimes and he wondered if she was still okay. If Roheryn had continued to take care of her as he had not Nadja.

She seemed happy, but he couldn't help but notice that she was alone. On the crossing in the midst of breeding season, unprotected and vulnerable. In the exact same vicinity where Sabriel had been attacked and had lost their beloved Uriah. It crosses his mind briefly that now, more than ever, would be the perfect time to sweep her away. To force her to the Cove and sequester her there until her hatred waned into tolerance, but the idea is fleeting. He would do a great number of things to see Feray in the Cove, but only if she were to come to him gladly... not as a prisoner. He had neither the energy nor the time to chase an unhappy mare in circles until she softened to him.

But Feray deserved a warning, at the least. That here was not safe, not now, and perhaps not ever again until the Lagoon boss lay rotting in the soil... preferably after being castrated and roasted over a spit.

"Feray," he called lightly, a Cheshire grin on his lips as he ambled closer. Solomon doubts that she is afraid of him, given the confidence he has always seen her wielding, but he makes sure his approach is as non-threatening as it can be for a stallion approaching a lone mare in the middle of the rut. He halts a short distance away and offers his muzzle, although he doubts that she will deign to exchange breath with him, all things considered. With a cock of a hind hoof, Solomon bobs his head in greeting before teasing her lightly, already knowing the answer to his question. "Have you finally gotten tired of eating sand every day in the Badlands? Don't suppose you've decided to take up my offer for a change of scenery just yet."

Is it wise to bring up a reference to their last tumultuous encounter? No, probably not. But it is one of the precious few pieces of time that connect them, and he is loathe to forget it. Still on guard with thoughts of Sabriel's attack fresh on his mind, his gaze dances reluctantly from her to trace the treelines and various groupings of other equines for any would-be attackers. He cannot help but let his gaze linger for a beat longer in the direction from which he'd come, wondering if he would again see Sabriel or the mysterious man that had left his scent all over her beautiful body. It had mingled with the sweet scent of the brindle mare, and lodged itself in his mind, despite his best attempts to remove it. Solomon had tried not to think too hard about who he might be, or what he might be like. To do so was its own sweet torment and he had been forced into a begrudging hope that this mysterious stranger would be the protection that Sabriel would not allow him to be.

"I'm surprised to see you this far North. Where's your loverboy?" His gaze snaps back to Feray, curiosity still sparkling in his eyes even as he attempts light banter. There is no love in his voice for the stallion he references, but he is curious to see if Roheryn will have surprised him this time and actually attempted to protect her. She smelled faintly of Roheryn, but mostly of herself and of the promise of the season. It was distracting and far more enticing than it had any right to be, but he resolved to stay in control of himself. The last thing he or his family needed was a reawakening of the feud between Roheryn and himself.

Solomon