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

The deft way she spun her words, the intensity that she disguised in moments of light laughter— Jaws might not share the roan stallion’s genes, but she was still his. And a part of Rade liked to think that the black mare was more like him than any of his trueborn children. That she was more like him than the violent and vile Cullen, the passive and unpassionate Fiero, and others who had left the islands behind them forever. Because Jaws— she was perfect even for all the flaws he could see; flaws that she borrowed from him, too. But these imperfections were fewer, mercifully, and lesser. When he was gone… wherever it was that his kind went after they left the world, she was the one he’d worry about the least.

And the one he would think about the most. Miss the most.

And— hell, he couldn’t think about it any longer. Focusing on the brightness of Jaws’ laughter, Rade let it pull him up and out of the darkness of his thoughts like a lifeline. After a moment, the golden stallion even joined her, though he couldn’t have said exactly what it was that they were laughing about. Or hide the note of desperation beneath the warm sound of his own, the barest quaver that revealed how easily his laughter might have turned to tears. But by virtue of his will— as strong as ever, even as his body was failing— it didn’t. Because Rade wanted his daughter to remember him like this, too. He wanted her to remember him as a creature of boundless joy and no fear; a creature who loved for now. And he wanted to be that man, too. He wanted to forget the present and shrug aside the future, and savor each moment of the present.

Small things, like the touch of her soft muzzle against his cheek. Like the way that she looked at him— like he was the sun. Her sun. Like the sound of her voice, pitching higher in her excitement and exuberance, just like it’d done when she’d reached only as high as his chest. We could go swimming in the Falls? It’s finally warm enough, come on! And though he couldn’t match the grace of energy of her dancing steps, the scarred old stallion let the tide of Jaws’ enthusiasm pull at him. Rolling his eyes (again) but smiling despite the gesture, Rade followed slowly at first, and then lurched into a trot that was quick despite its stiff, choppy strides. After a few seconds he even managed to pull in front of his daughter, and gave a playful little buck before calling out over one shoulder.

“The Falls it is, then. And the last one there is a rotten old cripple!” Laughing again, the Boss quickened his strides further, leaving the burdens of his leadership behind him in the Lagoon. But with each impact of his right foreleg's hoof, a lance of pain travelled through his shoulder to remind Rade where the recent years of his life had led him.

And where they would inevitably end.

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