“Narodil jsem se bez stáda,” Kuráž found himself saying in response to the stallion’s words, strangely moved, but unable to pinpoint how. His dark eyes remained fixed upon the older male’s dark face. The familiarity of the lines of him set Kuráž’s heart to aching, and this was compounded by sympathy for what the one standing before him had lost (and what he had never had, and never would, not quite in the same form at least).
“ Nechápu takovou ztrátu, ale začínám chápat, jak se taková příslušnost musela cítit ,” the young male murmured, his tender voice pitched with emotion, catching in his throat.
“Omlouvám se za to, čím jsi trpěl.”
The air around them felt so still, aside from the way it seemed to shiver at the baritone rumble of the Kladruber stallion.
“Moje matka mě hodila do oceánu, aby mě zachránila před zlým duchem,” Kuráž murmured, his voice sounding thin, as though his mind were somewhere else, as though something was pulling at his heart. And they were.
You and I are of the same People, the stallion had said, and Kuráž knew in that very moment that they would never be strangers to one another again.
“Patříme k sobě, patříme k sobě,” came the whisper and confirmation, and the boy trembled with what it meant for him, for the stallion before him, and the only other soul on the islands like them. A sudden desperation came over him - they belonged
together the three of them - and he started off, only to falter and turn back.
“Prosím, musíte jít se mnou.” And with that, a spike of adrenalin brought about a second wind for the child called Courage, and he ran as though his lungs weren’t burning for air. All the while, the truth that he’d meant to share with the towering, dark figure beside him pulsed in his veins.
Nejsem sám. What Kuráž had wanted to offer as comfort instead resonated within him, reinforced by the presence of the stallion, and weighted with hungry hope, they sank deep into his bones, driving him onward across the meadow until he stumbled into a stream and feeling safe in the shadow of the mountain (and in the shadow of one of his
Lidé) he bowed his head to slake his thirst, and renew his strength for the final stretch to the mountain which housed the heart that was home to him.
Even he, who had braved a tempestuous sea alone, could not run forever.
