Falls

He’s a handsome one, she’ll give him that. The low purr in his voice, dark and full of promise, so far from what Zevulun and his gentleness, his goodness, ever offered reminds her of home. It reminds her of brutal stallions who will do anything to get what they want, the power and strength to protect a herd in every line of their body. For a half-second, she’s tempted. It would be so easy to give in, it really would - a few coy words, the shift of her body, half-lidded eyes and inviting tone. She could let him bully her back to wherever it is he lives, raise her daughter and spend the next few years testing his patience. All of it laid out in front of her – what she thought she would have with Balor, before Zevulun ripped that future away.

But as soon as the thought comes she chases it away – if she wasn’t a hormonal mess fresh off of giving birth, she never even would have entertained the thought. For all she knows he’s some hapless Lagoon bachelor, a pretty face and big talk, but nothing of substance. The way his gaze lingers certainly speaks towards impulsiveness. But he doesn’t rise to her bait, instead glancing to Aíren at her feet. Riesling’s ears tip back and her lips draw tight. So he has self-control. That is only ever dangerous in a male; if they’re ruled by their instincts, at least they’re predictable.

She doesn’t like his attention on the little filly - not when she doesn’t know him well enough to know what it means. Greed, perhaps, in getting two for the price of one? Deciding the best way to be rid of the child so he can chase Riesling home? She’d die before she lets any harm come to her own blood, but he doesn’t know this. Or even pity, that she is here alone and vulnerable, but she doubts that he has the capacity for such emotions.

As if sensing her thoughts, his gaze snaps back to hers. Riesling tries like hell to keep the hate out of her eyes, hide the fire snapping behind her unassuming honey-gold gaze, but she’s relatively certain she fails. He creeps forward, one large, feathered hoof at a time and then stops. Any distance she’d gained is gone and her eyes narrow as she comes to understand his game. He’s toying with me, she thinks wildly. To what end? It doesn’t matter - she’s pissed and that cocky little comment doesn’t help.

Despite herself Riesling takes a step forward, teeth bared in a snarl as her neck arches and she tries to decide where best to try and bite. He’s big, but she’s beaten bigger. Honestly size doesn’t matter in the end so much as skill and speed - both of which Riesling is confident she has. Another step and all she can see is his smug grin, eyes hidden by a mess of hair. She’ll go for that, she decides - perhaps if she rips enough of it out he’ll learn not to cross a stranger.

Another step forward and she’s nearly there – one final lunge and Riesling just knows she’ll end up with a mouthful of flesh, her anger sated with hot blood. She’d never risen to physically attacking Zevulun – but this stallion isn’t the father of her children, and so there’s nothing holding her back. She starts to lunge forward, power gathering in her back legs when she’s stopped.

“Mama?” a high, sleepy voice says. Aíren struggles to stand behind her, and Riesling aborts her movement. Her front hooves land heavy on the ground between them, her head coming down far too close to the stallion’s own. She would have connected – she lets the knowledge burn victorious in her mind as she stares at him, chest heaving. They share breaths for a few moments, Riesling shaking wildly from the adrenaline before she pulls away to see to her child.

She doesn’t turn – cannot leave her back to him unguarded. But she takes two steps backward and Aíren scrambles out of the way, nearly tripping on unsteady legs to avoid being bumped into. The newborn creeps closer, hungry now that she’s woken but unsure of another equine being so near them. When she isn’t shooed back, she sidles up and begins to nurse. “I’m busy,” Riesling tells him, voice biting. There’s a challenge sparkling in her eyes as she stares at the stranger. Even now, nursing a new child, she does not let a single hint of weakness, of vulnerability, show in her at all. “Go bother someone else.”