rade

Rade stood in the midst of the Lagoon’s silence and its shadows. Waiting. Counting the misty plumes of his breath as the seconds ticked sluggishly past. One. A few leaves still clung like crumpled brown pendants to the branches overhead, and one of them chose that moment to let go. Two. It spun down towards the earth in a delicate pirouette, quivering like the stallion’s ragged gold coat. Three. A gust of wind rattled through the trees, and then it was gone. Four. Even squinting through the twilight, he kept counting; it was important. Vital. Five. It was— it was keeping him grounded, like the scrape of bark against his skin and the hardness of the earth beneath his hooves. Six. But it couldn’t dam the rising tide of his panic, and the steady rhythm of his breathing stuttered. S-seven. They weren’t coming. They were gone, and he was returning to ashes again. He was—

The dull thud of hooves penetrated his haze, and the scarred bachelor surfaced to the sound of a soft, choked voice. You’re alive. Was he? Shaking his head as if to throw off a veil, Rade sucked in his first gasp of frigid air for over a minute, relishing the burn of it in his lungs. And he— he’d lost count, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. The dark silhouette drew closer and closer until he felt a warmth press into his cheek, skimming lightly along its curve in a gesture that was all too brief. Are you okay? His tattered ears flicked outward in confusion, and the Boss turned his head slowly, gently, to meet his daughter’s gaze. Beneath the curious softness of her dark eyes, he could read the depths of her concern, and it worried him. Shit, Jaws looked bad. There were hollows beneath her eyes that hadn’t been there before; hollows carved by strain and sleepless nights. And if she looked this bad, then he— surely he looked even worse. Like he’d been through hell and only barely managed to claw his way back.

Lipping gently at a wayward strand of her inky forelock, the roan moved it away from her eye. " ‘m fine," he murmured in a voice that was too weary and dull to be his. "Jus’— just tired. Was one helluva long swim." Rade sagged heavily against the tree, as if the effort of speaking was costing him more than his body had to give. There was still enough strength to rally, though, when he heard the Maurader’s quiet cough. Still enough in him to appraise the boy in turn, and wonder how deep his loyalty to the Lagoon truly ran.

One way or another, he would know soon enough.

"Rehoboam." His greeting was respectful but curt, and Rade moved on from it quickly. There were more important things on the line than pride or vanity. "I have word that Nyimara has been seen in Salem’s Desert." A pause while he inhaled another stuttering breath, and then pushed himself away from the trunk, swaying for a brief moment where he stood. "When I was told, I left to see whether that’s where Cullen has gone as well. But I— I wasn’t able to complete the journey." The Boss moved forward a single step, his injured foreleg threatening to buckle beneath him. "I’d hoped that Tyr would answer my call, too. I need— I need—" He needed the return of his youth and vigor. He needed to find strength and time that didn’t exist.

"I need someone— someone to assess our enemies' strength. Someone else to protect our home. And I need someone to act as a representative on the Lagoon’s behalf; someone who will travel to the other islands and pave the way for our future." His amber gaze flitted between Jaws and Rehoboam briefly, and the line of his lips thinned. Without Tyr, he would be left to face an impossible choice— the choice to involve the dark mare more directly in the Lagoon’s politics. The choice to carve out his vulnerable heart and wear it outside his skin. But hiding her would ultimately mean nothing should his son circle around for him again. Rade had already lost Cherish, he’d already lost Fiero and Sciannath and so much more. Too much. Risking the last things he held might be the only way to save them.

"If Tyr isn’t here, then it’s between the three of us. And I— I might have to stay here. I can't... I just... I don't think I'll survive another swim. I don't know if I have another season." His breath stuttered again, and the old stallion glanced briefly at Jaws, his heart squeezing in his chest. Breaking the news of his failing body this way— it was the last thing he'd wanted. He'd hoped they could share a day filled with warmth and laughter, with memories she'd treasure after he was gone. That he could confess at the end of that day, and hope their fleeting joy would soften the blow. But there wasn't time for that anymore. There wasn't time for anything.

"I only know that, if it comes to it, I'll protect our brothers with everything I have left."

stallion / palomino roan / arab mix / 15.1 hh