Meadow

Isabel's death had shaken him more than he would like to admit, and while he did his best to deal with the magnitude of her loss and the repercussions it would have on his family, there was no denying that he was separating himself from it too. Everything that had happened between the two of them, and between he and Ysabel was still too raw and tender to bear examination.

So he hid from it, at least for now.

Solomon lost himself in patrols around the Cove, and busied himself with his surviving children. Margarita in particularly seemed to be attached at his hip most days, and he almost regretted not bringing her bright little face with him on this venture… but he needed a chance to get away from the memories. He'd left under the guise of needing to visit Kolfinna and Kalanthia in the Peak (which he still planned to do soon), but angled south for the Meadow instead.

The summer heat was more oppressive here, and he could feel the warmth of the sun beating against his face the moment he stepped beyond the edge of the shade. In a way, it almost felt nice, as if it was burning away the lingering sadness and shining a light into the depths of his heart, where the sickness lingered. Solomon had been predisposed to self-hatred since he had arrived on the Lost Isle, a weakness that had been exposed by the removal of his grandsire's protection in his faraway homeland.

It had been so easy to ignore the conscience in his heart when the voices of his harder, more vicious family surrounded him. Without their steady drip of poison, Solomon had lost the tolerance to be as cruel as he once been. And in the loss of his supposed hardness, he found himself like a newly molted crab - weak and tender and vulnerable. It was not a state that he enjoyed being in, and yet each loss (Harley Quinn and Uriah and Sabriel and Valka and Tavas and Marzanna andandandand so on) plunged him back into that freshly molted frame of mind.

Solomon did his best to forget, just for a moment. He tried to focus on the too-sweet taste of the grass that had grown lush and full beneath the more temperate climate. On the way the light breeze danced over his back, and on the far-off monotonous roar of the ocean. He tried, but he couldn't help his mind from wandering through the mistakes of his past.

His head rose at one point as he chewed, and he watched - unsurprised - as the familiar figure of Tavas crossed his frame of reference. He thought of her often, when he thought of the past. For as much as he'd fought to earn her respect and her time and her love, he'd all but abandoned her once he'd gotten it. He'd allowed her to fade into the background noise of the Cove without attempting to bring her pretty golden face back into the light. And when she'd finally gone, likely too tired of his neglect to bear his presence any longer, he'd let her.

He'd let her, and he hadn't followed after her.

A sad smile wove onto his lips as he watched, but to his surprise, the wistful image of the golden mare didn't turn to him as she had in his dreams. Sometimes she came with teeth bared in anger, and other times in sweetness, but his ego had never allowed her just to be, just as he'd never allowed her to really make her own choice in the past either.

This small disconnect frays at the edges of what he had thought was a daydream, and as his head rose the rest of the way, he could feel that sleepy, dreamy quality of being too lost in his thoughts fading away too. The image of Tavas, however, stayed.

For a long moment he just stared. From here, she seemed unchanged by the hands of time. Sunlight glittered across her golden coat, sparking a memory of tracing his lips along the proud bow of her neck and he swallowed the last mouthful of grass.

The urge to join her was strong, but he was struck by the realization that she may not want to see him at all. After all, she had been the one to leave without a goodbye. Perhaps more damning was the clear indication that she'd returned to the Isles and had not come to see him. Still, he is, at the heart of things, a selfish man, and he had grown tired of the not-knowing. Not just for Tavas, but for everyone that had left without a world. Trying to make himself into a better man with only the holes they left behind in their absence was a long and laborious process. Maybe he could just ask her, somehow… just to know.

Swallowing hard, the lean tobiano King stepped forward toward her and nickered gently to warn her. She hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet, but that was hardly surprising. Hundreds of horses walked across these grounds, only luck and happenstance brought old lovers together again.

"Tavas," he says warmly, but stops himself from halting beside her as he might have in the Cove. He was still unsure of what choice she had made, or why he had not been a part of it. "I didn't-" He cut himself off, stalling the question before it can be spoken in an effort to keep judgement from his voice. "...It's good to see you again."

Solomon takes in a breath and extends his muzzle toward her, his gaze rising to lock onto hers if she will allow it. He longed to cross the distance and stand as comfortably by her side as he had in the Cove after she had returned to him in tears, but he hesitates. For all that he knew, he had done something unforgivable and she had left him to seek a better partner.

"How have you been?" He finishes lamely as he pulls back, desperately wanting to get a read on her emotional state before he acted too boldy and ruined his chances, if he had any chance at all.

Solomon