Meadow

The childlike innocence that looked back at him, that resonated in her response and behavior was enough to dry up any of Caine’s usual quipping remarks. He truly did not expect her to get up and to spin again, winding up in the same place she was before and looking up at him as if she truly accomplished something. It left him a bewildered, and honestly lacking any sort of answer for a few moments, before he smiled again.


“Great job.” He replied. “Better than I could do.” Mostly because he wouldn’t be doing something like that. But that was not something he was going to share with her. “Do your legs stop being legs often?” he asks, before lifting his head to look up at the sky that she had been so invested in. There was nothing there for him as there had been for her, so his attention quickly returns to the fascinating creature sprawled out in front of him.


“My name is Caine.” he offered, though it wasn’t usually given from him so freely. “What is your name?” he asked. Something gentler was stirring inside him, driven by this painted mare that acted so different. Keeping whatever hateful that lurked within him at bay…. For now.