Oathsworn to Ylva
It had been some time since his oath had been dismissed, but he had stayed nonetheless. There, beside the waterfall by which she’d rejected him, he had spent his days. It had been the only hope he had after he’d seen her safely away from the Falls that same day to not continue to shadow her steps. She didn’t want him, want his protection, and so he bound himself instead to the Falls by which she’d left him with no uncertain terms.
Today it was more of the same. Wake. Stretch. Graze. Wash. Shake. Patrol. Graze. Self-spar. Wash. Graze. Stretch. Sleep. Rinse and repeat. Over and over. It had the feeling of a hamster wheel life, but it was better than being constantly trapped by the fear he felt, the yearning he felt, when he stilled and was not worn down enough to sleep right away. Sometimes she tormented him in dreams, true, but he took that torment as only further command not to dream up reasons that she would be waiting for him to show himself again. She had looked at him with such shock and eventually… what he had perceived as disgust.
So onwards he continues - bound to the falls, tending to it like a steward might - making it beautiful in honor of his last memory of his beloved. Stripping shrubs, clearing undergrowth, trodding down the soil about the banks of the pool beneath the twin falls, both the larger and the little sister. .
OF THE LOST ISLANDS’ WILDS
▻ stallion - friesian - heterozygous black - 16.1 hh ◅