Meadow

How his heart soared, higher and faster than he would ever imagined possible at his age as he realized that she was actually there alive and unharmed. A thrill raced through him even as her name was called so breathily from his lips moments before she crashed into him like a wave upon the rocks. How many nights had he spent wondering, hoping, praying that she was okay in any sense of the word, and now she was here and he felt such an undeniable peace as he wrapped his thick neck around her slender form. It wasn’t often that the old stallion’s dreams came true even in the slightest, but in this moment he felt like something had shifted in the balance of the world. Perhaps finally he had paid penance and would be afforded the chance at a semblance of happiness once more. The gratified breath she exhaled warm against his painted skin echoed by his own into the gentle curve of her nape which had turned cool in the night air. It was such an easy action, as if they had done it a thousand times and would a thousand times again. Not in a decade had he felt any semblance of such a connection and he barely recognized it as it blossomed around the pair.

The concerns he had felt over the last months however were not to be denied, the memory of the state in which he had found her that fateful night imprinted forever in his mind, and he had to know if she were truly alright. The sorrow which washed near instantly across her features at the words however immediately filled him with regret, even as her lips brush over his lowered head with featherweight softness as if it were he who needed comforting. Yet his emerald eyes remained steadily trained upon her as he waited patiently for whatever story she was willing to give him, nothing but acceptance within their depths.

Yet none of it quite prepared him for the tale she wove with cautiously as if any singular detail of it might break her. It was he however who felt broken in the end as she dared blame herself for everything that had been done to her. He would grind all their bones into dust if it would heal her, and yet if age had taught him anything it was that the anger he felt would only get him so far and do nothing to mend the wounds that had been so carelessly wrought. The soft, tentative way she finally glances back up at him however douses the flames of any anger he might have still harbored. He can only mumble soft platitudes in a voice too deep to hold them. “You were attacked, Sabriel. Not once, but twice, and you cannon hold yourself accountable for decisions made in the aftermath.” He was too familiar with how disorientating trauma could so easily be.

As she stepped back into his embrace however his words were halted, fitting with alarming ease into the crook of his spotted neck, and words whispered only for his ears as warmth of a different kind filled every inch of his towering form. For the first time in an age hope bloomed in his chest, for while he had decided he was not yet done living life he had not expected life to return the sentiment in kind. To be presented with what she so selflessly offered and after all she had been through in the last few months… he wasn’t sure he deserved such a thing yet he was not a strong enough man to deny that he wanted it as well. “No, Sabriel.” The words spoken as gently as his thick drawl would allow, angling his heavy head just enough to be able to take in her features while still holding her in his embrace. “I am yours.” And he knew he would do anything, go anywhere for her to try and replace even a fraction of the joy and happiness the last year had stolen from her.