Meadow

The humid summer air clung to the damp sides of Romulus’s neck. His dip in the Falls pool had served to cool him off quite nicely, but now it seemed he could not dry off, and the water left in his coat seemed only to amplify the heat from the sun. He shook himself off, again, but the dampness persisted. The heat was making him sleepy, and with his family close enough that he could hear their heartbeats, Romulus slowly succumbed to the sedative weight of the sun on his back.

A groan of pain pulled the grullo stallion from his nap. His dark rimmed ears swiveled toward the sound as his fatigue subsided into panic. Dhani?

Unthinking, his eyes still blurry with sleep, Romulus lurched forward. Where was she? What happened? The sun was setting now, and the shadows were growing long across the Meadow, distorting the rolling grass and flowers until they were a calm sea of deep gold and grey. The splashed stallion could not see where the groan had come from, but he rushed forward all the same, desperate to protect his mate.

But the little cry that halted him in his tracks was not Aaslan’s, and the mare he could hardly see through the grass in front of him was not Dhaniyā. Relief and confusion washed over him in equal measures, and he twisted his head around to look behind him.

Fool, he thought to himself. His family was still exactly where he had left them.

Turning back, Romulus peered through the grass at the dark stranger a short distance in front of him. Although he had confirmed his family’s safety, the feelings of panic and desperation still lingered in his chest, and it took a deal of self control to keep his hooves rooted instead of stepping toward the vulnerable new mother. He was already too close for comfort, he knew. There was no question in his mind that this mare was not his, and Romulus truly had no interest in her beyond that instinct of protection.

He wanted to turn away, badly. This was none of his business. When had he ever cared about a stranger? He had his own life to live, and was not terribly enthusiastic about tangling himself in another’s. But… he had cared about Dhaniyā, a stranger when he had first met her, and he could not stop seeing her in the stranger before him. He simply could not turn away. This mare was somebody’s daughter, or sister, or mate, even if she was nothing to him. Soft, he cursed himself. You’ve gone soft. This shouldn’t hurt.

Romulus stifled a low growl, instead letting out a gruff nicker toward the stranger. He did not want to lurk like a predator and give her a proper scare when she caught sight of him, but he was hesitant to get any closer. “You should come with me, when the child stands,” he said in a rough, low voice. “You can stay with my family until you are healed.” Then you should take your offspring and run from this place, he wanted to say, but he fell silent. He did not expect her to trust him, or to follow him as he turned back to look at his tiny herd. Even now, though, he was not free to leave the new mother to the Common’s various predators. You did what you came to do, and now you should leave, he told himself.

But he did not. He kept one eye on his family across the Meadow, but his attention remained on the dark mare and her child. He would stay until the foal could stand, and then the pair could do whatever they wanted, and Romulus would return to his own damn business.