I’ll keep the door open
in case you come home

Fell advanced despite the roan mare’s protests. There was nothing he could do or say (nothing he could say at all) that would make her believe he did not intend to hurt her, so he did not bother with reassurances or negotiations of any sort. She could assume all she wanted; at the end of the day, she would be safe. Whether she was really happy or not, well… that was less important.

He drove them purposefully down the mountain, giving them a little bit of wiggle room for the colt to retain his balance on the unforgiving ground. He had decided that any harm to the colt would only cause trouble for himself, and if not for the season, this might have been enough to send the both of them away. But the beast within him was not only greedy, it was hungry, and Fell did what he could to compromise with himself. He would interact with the mother and colt only as much as was absolutely necessary. He could not dispel their inevitable hatred of him, but he could avoid doing certain things to make it worse.

Moonlight filtered through the trees as they herded downward, until finally the land evened out and the night sky opened above them, unhindered by trees. He felt the blue roan mare lock up as she turned to snap at him, but he let her strike, and her teeth left a burning scrape on his jaw. He glared down at her, but he wasn’t actually angry — he understood that she was scared, and there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise. Could he blame her?

So he let her lash out. The anger was better than fear, he thought. He stood there and took it — the bite, the yelling — and thought that maybe if she got it out of her system, she’d relax a little bit. If not, well; he could leave her alone and let her figure it out. He wasn’t so much a fool not to know that space usually did the trick when it came to mares. He watched her with dark gold eyes and twisted-back ears, and when she was finished, he watched as she turned to reassure the colt. You don’t know that, he thought. He did not intend to hurt the colt, but still. Don’t lie to the kid.

It was obvious that he was not going to get her any further into the territory than this. That was fine; Fell had made his point. He was about to back off when she turned back to him, an unreadable expression on her face. Her voice was almost pleading when she spoke.

He’s just a child. He can’t do anything to you. Of course Fell was aware of this. Frustration and anger unfurled in his chest, but they weren’t directed at the roan mare. There was nothing he could do to make her understand that he was not going to hurt them. He should not care how scared they were, given the manner in which he had practically chased them down the mountainside, but he found himself increasingly upset that he couldn’t just tell them his reasons. He growled, his feelings a feedback loop of frustration.

But then she offered him a deal, and he tuned in again, forcing the loud static of his anger to quiet.

It wasn’t so much the deal itself that interested him (though it certainly did interest him) but rather the act of taking a deal. If he refused, she was undoubtedly be fearful about whatever she perceived he actually wanted. If he took it, she might actually be reassured, even though he never intended to hurt her in the first place. It was a far more ideal situation than he could have hoped for. It was possible the season would have driven him to extremes anyway, but that would have caused him more trouble in the long run, so he was not unhappy to avoid it. Anything to help him appease the beast within, and keep his control, was a blessing.

So he accepted her offer, and even tried to be gentle about it; but afterwards, when he turned away to leave her alone, the snarling demands of the creature inside of him were only replaced by the steady gnawing of guilt.

FELL