Falls

As the days ticked down toward the looming election, I found myself wandering more often. Initially, it was to patrol the borders and make sure that no one else tried to escape, but now it was moreso to try and clear my head and decide what it was that I wanted to do.

Both options were bad, which meant then - logically - I should offer a third. But the idea of being the Boss and having to manage the rat's nest myself held about as much appeal to me as a mouthful of ash. Being the Marauder had always afforded me the best of both worlds: the freedom to do as I pleased and the authority with which to back it up. The prospect of losing that did not sit well with me.

I paced the edges of the Falls absently, my mind far too busy to focus on the various creatures I came across. It wasn't until the scent of the patchwork mare crossed my nostrils that I paused and shook myself free of the mental fog to look for her, intrigued to learn she was back on the Crossing.

Lavender had never truly been my mare in the sense that Hiyori and Vogue had been. I hadn't claimed her or brought her into the swamp initially. But as time went on - especially after defending her and our newborn son from Baba Yaga - I had grown strangely fond of the quiet, gentle mare. Losing her to the Prairie had been a blow, but I'd been waylaid initially by the infection that had nearly stolen my life, and now more recently by the election drama.

But here she was.

I paused to look at her quietly from a short distance away, curious to see how she would react to my presence. Lavender had never seemed particularly afraid of the Lagoon men, but I knew well enough that few mares actually enjoyed their time with the bachelors.

"Don't tell me you missed me enough to come back on your own," I eventually utter, a smirk curling along my lips as I closed the distance between us. My eyes remain dark as I look at her, but I extend my muzzle toward her all the same, hoping to feel the soft skin of her pale maw against my own.

I want her to be unhappy in the Prairie, though I do not want to examine why I feel that way. Worse still, I want her to miss me. I want her to miss my touch. I want her to hate me, too. I want that fire and ice, that pain and pleasure. I want to get beneath her skin again, if only because I know it will hold her close to me.

Stallion - Adult - 15.2 - Brown Overo