It is a lot to take in. A lot to process. Too much, perhaps, for the boy to even absorb in the moment. But he stares at his father with unabashed curiosity and a thread of some emotion he does not yet have a name for. It swims between competition and admiration, between suspicion and eagerness, between betrayal and hope. Ivo has never truly understood what it is to have a father, given how little Kohelet felt comfortable speaking of her own (let alone his) in the presence of the silver witch, but the prospect intrigues him as much as it terrifies him.

Kohelet is his mother. Yet, watching her speak to this stallion - to his father - he cannot avoid the way she leans toward him, the way her very being seems to hang onto each minute movement he makes. Some part of her belongs to him as well... and while he shares his dam (fairly) easily with Amalia, he has never shared her with anyone else.

They do not touch, but Ivo steps forward again, ignoring the worried expression on Kohelet's face to meet the silent stallion's approach. His slender ears remain twisted back, but the conflicting emotions are clear enough on his face, his motions toward his father filled his hesitance and confusion. He wants to be angry. He wants to separate them.

But he also wants to belong. He wants to know why this man means so much to his mother.

He wants to know who he is.

Ivo snorts softly as he pulls his muzzle back from and offered exchange of breaths, and then with a toss of his head and a shudder of his sleek black coat, steps to the side.

---

Kohelet doesn't wait for Fell. In truth, she had only waited for Ivo to make his decision because she knew it was important for him to foster some relationship with his father, given that she had had to all but hide his existence from the boy. But once the coast was clear, she does not make Fell close the distance himself, but surges forward to wrap him in an embrace.

She should feel bad, she knows. Somewhere in the world Mae and Viveka and Rafe are all scowling at her, but she cannot help it. She knows that Fell has done bad things. But she also knows his heart. And he is not a bad man.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs into the tangle of his mane if he lets her close. "I shouldn't have left." So much heartbreak and pain could have been avoided if she'd simply been loyal enough to trust him, to accept that he was as imperfect as she was. She pulled away, tears having begun to trickle down her cheeks and thicken her voice, shifting to press her lips momentarily into Ivo's side to settle him. "We can go, if you- if you prefer." She said quietly, afraid that this would be the truth.

He would be right to hold a grudge for her abandonment. She had been the one to work through their troubles much of the time, to serve as diplomat when Fell's escapades landed him in hot water. She'd been at his right hand side, but she'd left with hardly a word. And not just him.

But Khoshekh. Una. Rethe. Emhyr.

"I don't want to make this difficult for you." She murmured then, her gaze dropping to the ground before being pulled helplessly back to Fell's face.

mare - mutt - black tobiano - 16.1h - solomon x sicily