Falls

Damascus listened patiently as his brother spoke to him, though he wasn't sure where the patience had come from. When he had thought of this day, he thought of blood and violence and the satisfaction of exacting revenge. But when he gazed upon his brother's weakened form, he couldn't muster the hatred he was so sure he had. He shook his head, dislodging a single, solitary fly from his neck before nodding in agreement.
There's not much to see but please, follow me. He started to walk, retracing the path he had already followed this morning and every morning before it. He gave a low, frustrated call as he thought about the tense atmosphere. He had been expecting either a fiery exchange of heated words and flying hooves or a tearful reunion. They had been like soul mates before the accident. Obviously not in a romantic sense, but in the sense that when they were together, the world seemed to make sense. Things were as they should be, and they were never far from being able to complete each others' sentences. This awkward, in-between phase of not knowing what to say or how to act was infuriating.
He continued to walk, motioning with his head when there was something worth mentioning. A small waterfall leading into a babbling creek, a tight-knit cluster of trees in which to seek cooler temperatures on the hottest days, and of course the intermittent meadows full with young grass to graze. Some time had passed in silence before Damascus snorted again. Can't we just get this out of the way? He turned to face his brother, his face determined but for once, not belligerent. I mean all the stuff about the past. I don't want to spend all our time together in silence and thinly veiled resentment when we could air our dirty laundry instead. I mean, there's no one hear to hear it.
He didn't include that the forest was alive, because he didn't need to. Both of them knew that no matter what happened, the forest around them would just absorb it. They could be the best of friends or the worst of enemies and it wouldn't change the forgiveness of nature. The way the ground would soak up the blood or the way the wind would whip away the words, hurtful or kind. The way the sun would still rise the next day or that the rains would always come. He turned his head to the sky and watched the clouds drifting, feeling oddly peaceful as he waited for his brother to speak. The doubts began to creep in as the silence started to stretch. What if his brother didn't see another side. Was their relationship ruined permanently? Maybe his brother didn't even want to be here, and he definitely wouldn't want to try and patch things up. Honestly, he didn't even know anything. Had his brother taken over their herd? Made one of his own? Maybe he had already started to live the lifestyle Damascus longed for. Without him. The last part stung a bit, but there was nothing he could do before hearing his brother's response. So he waited.