Meadow

Love hurts more than anything in this world, she said, and Zevulun caught a hitch in his breath, trembling against her, feeling very much like a young boy tucked up between his sisters (who had acted as his maternal support in his youth) rather than the leader and father he was now. Shame tightened his throat, but Zevulun had always been more in touch with his emotions than other stallions and even feeling ashamed for breaking against her now couldn’t stop the tears from coming. But you have not failed me because of it. How gracious of her to excuse his transgressions against her; no matter where she had been all this time, he had not been beside her to keep her safe. The moment he left them all long enough to make cracks in the foundation of the safe harbor he had made for the Prairie, he had failed them all.

It could be argued that what had happened had been unavoidable and, despite all odds, he’d somehow managed to claw his way back to those who remained. The Prairie had become his again after only two seasons of loss and he’d held on to it steadfast ever since, hardly ever leaving its borders any more… But Zevulun was never one to reflect very long on what good he had done; he would instead ruminate over the pain he had inadvertently caused others. (In this way he was much like his father but, given how little he had known the speckled stallion, Zevulun was not aware of this.)

Take me home, she asked - begged - of him, and Zevulun could not think of three more beautiful words he could have heard in that moment. He wanted to weep again for how much he felt he did not deserve her grace, but his heart needed this moment more than he could question why he should have it at all. Zevulun held his tears at bay, though he had to blink a few times to clear the mist from his eyes once he finally opened them. He drew a deep, shaky breath and placed his lips to her skin, resting into the kiss for a moment longer before he finally pulled his face from her.

“There’s nothing I would love more,” he admitted in an emotion-husky voice, now looking at her and seeing her expression. Concern crept across his, whatever pain he’d been shouldering shoved aside the moment he could see she was in any sort of distress. “Frond,” he called her name gently, beckoned her to look at him, “let’s go home.”