Something swam beneath the surface of her thoughts at my throwaway compliment, and as if caught on a line it tugged at my interest. For so long she'd worn the same dour expression that I'd come to associate with most of my personal captives that I hadn't ever truly considered attempting to elicit anything other than tired acceptance of my presence. More often, I dealt with annoyance and frustration and irritation at my intrusion onto various lives. The thought that I might inspire something else entirely held more interest than it used to, and I cupped the idea in my palm, turning it over thoughtfully while Vogue deliberated.

What else might I do to crack open that smile?

Eventually, she decided I wasn't a threat to our newborn child and began to make her way away from me hesitantly. I wasn't afraid she would try to flee without the boy, and so I did not track her as I might any of my other trinkets. Instead, my gaze roved thoughtfully to the quiet place where the boy slept. I felt… ashamed was not the right word, but uncomfortable, suddenly, with the knowledge that his existence did not move me as it might have my other brothers. I could imagine the insolent Rutger looking down upon his children and knew that, unlike me, he would be pleased by their existence.

Not Garmr. The insidious voice in my head reassured me. Nor Beloved. Nor Cullen. Nor Omen. The reminder that most of us were apathetic fathers at best (some likely hostile, even) eased the unwanted thread of guilt in my breast. I must be losing my mind to compare myself with not just my subordinate, but the very subordinate that had allowed Tyr to escape from our clutches. My tail flicked across my hocks in irritation with myself.

A crack of a branch nearby drew my gaze back up, and an idea struck at the same time, the ghost of Vogue's almost-smile hovering in my mind. "If that's not the doting mother of my newest son, I would highly suggest you find a different path. She's the only one I want to see tonight.." Okay, so it wasn't exactly a true compliment, but I had no art with fancy words anyway. Nor did I particularly want to inspire in her the sort of doe-eyed admiration that followed some of my brothers around.

I just wanted a flicker of a smile.

Stallion - Young Adult - 15.2 - Brown Overo