There was nothing extraordinary about the touch that the perlino and his companion shared; no shifting of gravity nor fluttering of hearts. And yet the pale stallion still felt something profound when the stranger’s breath steadied, and the storm of her emotions appeared to calm. To know that his presence had helped, even in such a small way - it reminded Iscariot of the impact that kindness could have on the world. Like ripples on the still surface of a pool, compassion could spread, and happiness with it. You do not have to go, his nameless companion assured him, filling him with a warm glow. But he knew that they could not remain as they were - not as strangers who were united only by the shared understanding of sorrow. Hesitant, the cream-colored Andalusian withdrew his muzzle, though he continued to linger near enough that the warmth of his breath could be felt in gentle gusts that stirred the pale strands of the short mare’s mane.

Please do not leave me alone...

The despair in those few syllables twisted his heart, and the young stallion swung his hindquarters around so that his flank brushed her hip in a comforting but less-intimate touch than the one they’d shared only moments before. "I won’t," he assured her in a voice that was more courageous and confident than it had ever been. Iscariot might be frail of body and tender of heart, but there was a strength to him nevertheless. A strength that became greater when those around him were at their most vulnerable - a strength buoyed by the desire to protect them from further harm. I...I have lost my son. I do not want to be lost too.

Again he felt an echo of the anguish that this bereft creature must be suffering, and fought against the instinct to curl his body protectively around hers. As if by shielding her physically, he could protect her from the cruelty of the world in which they lived. It was harder to think of what to say to make things right - but after a few moments of silence, Iscariot endeavored to at least try. "I - tell me about your son," he prompted with gentle sympathy - not certain whether her loss was the permanent separation of death, or perhaps something transitory and more easily remedied.