“I will.” He promised and nodded firmly after. Now that Persephone had revealed to him that Sabran had grown up during the island war, Zevulun understood why she had remained close to home. It made him feel even more touched to think the lovely young mare trusted him enough after their walk through the meadows to escort her away from Luthien. He could understand Persephone’s worry, and he would do his best to be as careful with Sabran as he could be. The world could be a cruel place, but it could be a wonderful one too. Since she’d been born and had her formative years in a time of such pain, Sabran deserved to see the beauty of life outside her home.
Zevulun made a silent pact to himself to show Sabran as much of the world as she’d allow and to do everything in his power to keep her safe.
He offered another smile in Persephone's way and then finally turned to return to the Prairie. His mind was full of everything the pair had discussed, but his heart felt warm rather than heavy. If he was going to be driven (rightfully) out of the Prairie for what he had done, Zevulun wouldn’t be too upset at the prospect of living in the Forest with Persephone.
The pale stallion let himself daydream about what that life might look like as he wound through trees and took note of the break in them lying ahead. He chuckled and shook his head at himself, always with his head in the clouds, and then broke from the shadowed Forest and back into the open, rolling hills of his newly cherished Prairie.
No… as much as he’d never complain if he had to take shelter with Persephone and could even see himself enjoy life among the trees, he’d come to love this Prairie. Zevulun didn’t want to leave.
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