to live and burn is
the most exquisite form of self destruction

It was a relief to feel something other than worry and doubt, even if the respite Jaws offered couldn’t last forever. Being near the girl... it didn’t erase the burdens the stallion carried with him; nothing could. But it lifted them for as long as they were together, for as long as they traded their playful banter back and forth. I think you’re the one that’s stuck with me. Hell, it even made him feel younger, and the spark of it showed in the soft sound of the palomino’s laughter, and the way he bumped his hip into hers. “Then we’ll call my offer caving to the inevitable. After all, with age comes wisdom— like the wisdom of knowing when I’m beaten.” Or rather, age had made him more susceptible to the foibles of the heart. He should have fought harder to send her away, because it was truly the best choice. For her. For him. For the Lagoon.

They risked too much in staying together— and yet, if he lost her, he would be just as lost.

You’re mine all the time, don’t be a dummy. That simple phrase shouldn’t have set Rade’s heart fluttering or warmed him so much, but it did. Snorting and rolling his eyes in a long-suffering manner, the roan flicked both ears back but remained where he stood. Relishing the gentle ministrations of Jaws’s grooming teeth, and tamping the memory of his brother back into its grave. This wasn’t the same, it wasn’t. Conquistador’s love for him— and his for the younger palomino— had been a selfish thing, with each trying desperately to transform the other to suit them. With the smoky black woman, he could be himself, and it didn’t matter. The bond that they shared was unconditional, and for that he loved her more than any of his trueborn children. For that, Rade would be hers gladly.

We should go on an adventure, raise a little hell. “Finding trouble is easy,” the stallion claimed in another moment of light humor, twisting his neck to look down at the girl with warm amber eyes. “Oh look, there it is.” He barked another laugh, ignoring the dull ache of his shoulder and the heaviness that infused his bones. Rade had meant what he said; he would do anything for his daughter. But... it would probably be best to set some limits, if for no other reason than to conceal the worst of his condition from Jaws. She already worried enough without knowing how close to its end his body truly was. A season, a year— he didn’t know, but it wouldn’t be long. And part of him welcomed that inevitability with the same languid ease that preceded sleep.

The other part fought against it with everything he had.

“Alright, an adventure.” He agreed, mussing the tangle of Jaws’s forelock with his lips before turning his gaze inland. “But we’ll stick to the Crossing, and keep out of the Peak. You did say a little hell, after all, and we both know that my presence there would raise quite a lot more than that.” They’d talked only briefly of the time Rade had spent there, but enough for the inky mare to understand that some things on the islands hadn’t changed— and perhaps never would. “But those stipulations aside, I’m all yours to command— Boss.”

His final laugh was darker, drier. The other men would dethrone him if they heard him hand his title away so flippantly— and to a woman, no less. But he didn't care. For over a year, he'd given them everything that he had, everything that he was. And now... now he was going to be selfish, if only until the sun rose tomorrow.

Consequences be damned.

stallion . palomino roan . mustang mix . 15.1hh
debonaire x neassa