Staluk took slow steps through the greenery of a sun-kissed grove. He was a mile or so from the rest of his herd, following directions from a group of humans that had been camping with them for the past few moons. He followed the trail of rocks as he was informed until he reached a small clearing, a spiraling trees surrounding the edges. 'The sweetest star-fruit you'll ever see!' Their assurance rang in his head as he gazed upon the yellow fruit hanging from the branches. That saying made no sense, he saw no sweetness in those trees. Staluk would later be educated on the importance of alliteration.
He approached the nearest tree, a firm hand grasping one of the upper branches, sturdy, like him. His fingers flowed down to the smooth curves of the bark, graceful, like-
A crack in a twig about ten paces behind him, he had been followed. Staluk took a breath, heavy hoofs taking steps away from the tree.
"Reveal yourself." His voice was low, but boomed through the grove like rolling thunder.
"Relax."
Her voice was soft and gently amused as she picked her way delicately from the undergrowth, lips quirked into a small half-smile as she approached, hands raised peaceably. "It's just me," Camellia assured her mate.
Dropping her hands to her sides she glanced around as she stepped toward him, hoof beats surprisingly soft against the earth, making less sound than it really seemed they should have. "You didn't say you were leaving," she murmured, turning her mismatched eyes back to him a little disapprovingly. When she spoke again though, it was clear that it was not disapproval in her voice, but worry.
"You can't just go off like that without telling me, Staluk," she reproached quietly.
A small sigh of relief left him as he realized who had tracked him all this way. His stance relaxed as she made her way towards him. Hearing the concern in her words, a guilty expression formed on his face. “I didn’t mean to..” He trailed off, his taking a moment to meet hers.
A hand rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes moving back to the fruit in the trees. “They were meant to be a gift,” his voice faltered, and his eyes fell to the floor.
“I’m afraid I’m not very good at gestures like this. I’m sorry that I caused you to worry.” He made a horrendously forced smile, trying to maintain what little pride he had left in that moment. His expression was stiff, and brown eyes looked for a way to ease the tension building within him.
Any tension in Camellia's voice or body melted away and she sighed quietly as she closed the distance between them with a few more steps.
"That was very sweet of you," she told her mate softly, reaching up to lay her hand against his cheek for a moment and smiling at him gently. As she drew her hand back her eyes flickered up to the fruit in the branches above them, shining curiously. "What made you think of this?" she asked, taking a step away from him to approach the trunk. Her fingers trailed lightly over the rough bark as she circled the tree.
The dappled light that filtered through the branches threw abstract patterns over her already painted coat, making the patterns of chestnut and cream almost seem to ripple as she moved, and highlighting the handful of scars that decorated her hide--a testament to her people's past, as she would say.
Staluk took a deep sigh, his hand reached up to join hers as she touched his cheek, regaining some of his composure. Part of him felt disappointed that the surprise was ruined, but he was much more pleased when she was around. Of course, the untrained eye would never notice the subtle changes in his demeanor.
"The humans traveling with us told stories of this place," He reached up to pick two ripened fruit from the tree Camellia circled, one notably larger than the other. "Two stars, while travelling the heavens, tripped, and fell to the earth." Staluk reenacted the motions with the fruit in his hands.
"One, embarrassed by it's blunder, grew sour, and rough." He turned over the smaller fruit in his hands. "The other star chose to hold firm, thankful that they did not have to fall alone." His eyes fell upon Camellia, watching as the light danced across her body. A small smile found his face, and he looked back to the fruit in his hands.
"Now, they live in this grove together, deep underground, and their light seeps into the roots of all the trees growing here." He split the larger of the two fruit, making a satisfying noise as it cleanly split in two. Staluk reached out a gentle arm, offering half to Camellia.
"I thought you might like it."
The mare chuckled and twisted her upper body to look at him over her shoulder as she came to a halt beside the tree, watching him move the fruit expressively while he spoke.
She'd always loved it when he told stories. He was normally so stoic, but when he spoke in narration he seemed to relax, almost, allowed his emotions to shine through.
She smiled brightly when he offered her half of the fruit and clopped forward to take it, lifting her half to sniff it curiously before taking a bite. Her eyes fluttered closed as the sweet juice coated her tongue and she hummed in satisfaction. "I do," she assured him when she opened her eyes again, still smiling. "I like it very much. Thank you."
She took another step forward, laying her free hand on his shoulder so she could tilt her head up to peck his cheek gently. "I'm surprised you even listened to the humans, though," she noted as she pulled back, one eyebrow raised. "I was rather under the impression that you weren't entirely happy they'd been camping with the herd."
"Did I make it that obvious?" The statement came with a quirked brow and a sarcastic grin. Staluk took his time in developing opinions on most other creatures he met, but humans came off as unnaturally untrustworthy. His hand moved to rest on her back, the other, to hold his chin in thought, fruit still held.
"I think they're entitled, slow, and frail." The words came with the smallest hint of bitterness, a hand moved from his chin to the scar that ran across his face. He looked to Camellia as he thought more on his words, almost unaware of his staring until he spoke once again.
"More than anything, they get in the way," Staluk's gaze turned towards the path he followed to reach the grove, then to the trees, and finally, back to his mate. He wouldn't have found this place had Camellia not let the humans travel with them, he wouldn't have found this place if he hadn't listened to them.
"But I can't say they're all bad, at least, not these ones."
"You are many things, my love," Camellia said with another soft, wry chuckle, "but I'm not sure subtle has ever been one of them."
Her expression fell slightly when he voiced his opinion about their temporary companions, but her eyes tracked the movement of his hand with a hunter's focus, tracing the scar that carved through his skin with her gaze even as he did it with touch.
She couldn't blame him for his distrust of the two-leggers. Gods knew there were days when she'd wanted to put every last one of them to the pike--there still were those days, if she was honest with herself, but she liked to think she could move passed the rage and hate.
"They're refugees, Staluk, former slaves," she murmured, stepping just a bit closer as his hand came to rest on her back. Her chest brushed his gently and she cocked a hoof so that her front leg bent between his, companionable and at rest. "We didn't expect them to be able to hunt or forage," she reminded him gently.
The humans were a drain on herd resources, but not so much that it became a real problem. They just had to go a little further afield when hunting or collecting food and medicinal plants to make sure they had enough.
"And they'll be gone in a few days. A week at the most," she added. Her lips quirked into a small smile again. "Though I'm glad you've decided they are at least worth the time to listen to."
Staluk seemed to visibly soften as they touched, as she spoke, he slipped another arm around Camellia, holding her close. A soft kiss on her forehead, "Don't rush them on my behalf." Infact, Staluk did not want to rush anything in that moment, he was rather content to stay in the grove for a while, just a little bit longer. So he did.
A few quiet moments were stolen, the gentle sway of leaves as the sun broke through the trees to warm their skin. Questions swam about in his head. Where he was now. Where he ought to be going. Where he would be if he hadn't left the herd- The Herd.
In the distance, the ever calling hum of responsibility sounded, and the stolen moments were due to fade.
"We should return to the herd soon." Staluk spoke softly, a rare occurrence. "They might begin to worry, or worse, they might start to gossip."
Camellia shook her head, her hands coming to rest lightly against his chest. "I'm not. They don't want to stay so close to the edge of the plains, they'll be separating from us when we start heading south again."
It was difficult for a wandering herd to find a place to...well, wander. Raiders and slavers alike roamed the plains, and while the lush valleys and hills of Serendipity and La'marri were bountiful in resources, they were also heavily populated. Camellia had been keeping the herd on the move in a steady, almost migratory circle ever since she came to lead it. Occasional changes were made of course, adaptation was always necessary--but she never wanted to stray too far from the Glade, not if she could help it.
She sighed quietly and nodded in agreement with him, but it took her another moment or two to pull away. When she had, she let her hand drift down to grasp his for a moment, squeezed gently, then finally broke the connection.
"I shudder to think what they may gossip about," she commented blithely as she turned to start heading back through the foliage. "I fear they're getting bored. Ever since Fiorne's foal, there hasn't been all that much to keep their minds off much but survival."
"The two of us sneaking off unannounced? They might think we're making foals of our own." Staluk gave a small chuckle at his own joke as he followed her through the brush.
Staluk had often found himself thinking of how little he found to do these days. He trained the young when they were willing, but that was not as often as he had hoped. Part of the recent lull, he felt, was the scenery. In his day, their herd cut across the land like a knife, seeing new land every moon. Recently though, it hardly felt like they were moving at all. Camellia said it was for the herd's protection, and he trusted that, but..
"Have you ever thought about taking the Herd further south?" He dare not question her in front of the herd, but he wanted to know her thoughts on the matter.
She flushed a bit at that, quite despite herself. For all that she and Staluk had been partners for quite a few seasons now, she’d yet to bare a foal, and she knew it was something their herd would have welcomed gladly. New foals were always good for the herd, of course—but there was a certain expectation from their Lead Mare and Herd Stallion.
She didn’t comment on it though, just tossed him a dry look over her shoulder and picked up her pace into a lazy trot as the broke through the trees into a sloping sort of meadow.
Her head snapped toward him when he spoke again though, mismatched eyes a little wide. “I—“
She had thought about it. Thought about it and dismissed it. Going south to the plains would take them too far from the Glade, from their patron. But...
But he knew that, and he wouldn’t have brought it up without reason. Letting out a long, low sigh, Camellia shook her head slightly. “I’ve...considered it,” she admitted a little stiffly after a moment. “But what would we do? There is nothing left for us there, not really...”
"Is there much left for us here?" Staluk increased his pace so that he was at Camellia's side, his tone wasn't cold, he was trying to pose a genuine question. The Herd was doing alright now, but he felt they may be overstaying their welcome in their travels.
"I'm not saying we abandon the Grove, Camellia, but maybe we should travel a bit further out. If we keep moving like this we can't expect to rebuild. Danger lives in pattern." A hand rested on her shoulder in concern.
He meant not to question Camellia's authority, but, like her, Staluk only wanted what was best for the Herd. The land was beset with those who would hurt them, if he could, Staluk would take an axe to them all, but his mate has assured him time and time again that it wasn't the way they would survive.
"You say we shouldn't drive these poachers out, but we can't just hope that they go away."
Camellia shook her head--not in denial, more as a sort of expression of helplessness and confusion. She couldn't allow the rest of the herd to see her be so indecisive, but with Staluk she allowed her guard to fall, even if only slightly.
"If there were a way I could grow us roots, I would," she murmured, lips a tight line with tension. "A way to convince them all that we should settle. But it is not their nature...nor mine, if I'm being honest."
Their herd had always been nomadic; every centaur she knew was, and they always had been. But Camellia firmly believed that real salvation for the Moonflower Herd would be in finding a new, permanent home. She didn't believe they could do that by going south... But Staluk had a point. They weren't exactly doing it here, either.
"...Maybe I should speak with Lakali," she murmured, almost to herself. It had been months since she'd actually visited the Grove. Perhaps its Guardian might offer her some counsel.
She shook her head with a sharp exhale, and reached up to cover Staluk's hand on her shoulder gently, a silent gesture of gratitude. She knew he didn't always understand or agree with her decisions, but he tried to support her as best he could, and she did cherish him for it. Even if she maybe didn't say so as often as she should.
“Do what you think is best, and the Herd will follow.” Even if it was only the two of them left, Staluk intended to stay by her side. Though Staluk wasn’t entirely keen on settling down, he was a traveled stallion, and knew what a settled life would entail, and the benefits it brought. Adapting to a new lifestyle wouldn’t be too difficult, at least that's what he had hoped.
The mention of visiting the Grove rose Staluk’s brow, he wasn’t very in tune with the more spiritual side of the Herd, to say the least. He had never even met the patron who had set his herd on their current path. He had avoided it in the past, but he now found himself curious to hear what it had to say.
“Do you think I could.. accompany you to the Grove, Camellia?” The question came out rather bluntly, but he felt a sort of duty to at least be there as his mate was counseled on a potentially life altering decision.
That actually drew her up short, eyes a little wide as she looked over at him. "You--you want to?" she blurted out in her surprise, unable to censor herself.
She knew that Staluk was both curious and wary of the Grove, but she'd never thought he'd actually...want to go with her on one of her short pilgrimages.
"I mean...yes, love, of course you can." Lakali had never said she couldn't bring someone with her, after all. And if she was being honest she was excited by the chance to show him the magic of the place that had changed everything.
"We're about four days' travel from here. If we start the herd headed south, we'll pass within a half days' journey to the Grove in...three days?"
Staluk was concerned at her initial surprise, had he overstepped? Eyes looked to his mate in concern.
“Three days sounds doable.” He trailed off, the distance was no problem, but three days gave him too much time to overthink things. His brow already wrinkling in thought at the very idea. A deep breath steadied him, and he set his eyes forward.
They were still a ways away from the herd, though normally content with silent travel, Staluk preferred to not be alone with his thoughts in that moment.
“What’s she like?” The question came out colder than he intended. “The Lady of the Grove, I mean.”
"She is..." Once again Camellia stopped, struggling to find words. "...Almost like us," she murmured eventually, "but--but softer, somehow. And harder. She is both ancient and youthful, and when I first looked into her eyes I saw a compassion so deep and terrible that I felt it would tear my soul apart."
The words left her in a rush. She'd never really spoken with anyone about the specifics of her trips to the Grove before, for all that it had been what provided illumination for their herd's new path.
"I don't think she...really feels things as we do," she continued in a murmur, brow furrowed thoughtfully. "But she is not cold, or callous. It is--it is difficult to describe."
"I can imagine it would be." Staluk didn't do well with the juxtapositions that came with the answer to his question, but he nodded his head and did his best to understand. Magic was a complicated thing.
"Thank you." Simple words to show his gratitude, her answer didn't do much to ease his thoughts, but he appreciated her efforts to describe it for him.
He continued in silence for a while, until murky blobs in the distance began to look like the outlines of their Herd. He looked to the sky, surprised at how low the sun had fallen. They had been away much longer than he had planned.
"We should find a place to camp soon, we can let the herd know we'll be altering course tonight."
Camellia nodded in agreement. “They’ll be glad of the rest, I think. Especially the humans.” Though the herd tended to travel at a relatively sedate pace, it was still difficult for those of a more two-legged persuasion to keep up.
She pursed her lips, thinking. The refugees were trying to avoid the south; in all likelihood, they would separate from the herd tonight or the next morning once it was announced that they were changing course.
She wondered briefly if Staluk had thought of that when he suggested it—but she didn’t believe he was that conniving. It wasn’t in his nature to use subterfuge or manipulation to get what he wanted. He was far more likely to simply tell her what was bothering him straight out, as he had earlier.
“The foals too,” she noted, belatedly. Their herd was still small, a bare shadow of what it had once been, but even aside from Fiorne’s son they had half a dozen other younglings in the group.
Staluk nodded, and gave a quiet hum in agreement. "I'm sure they'll enjoy the time off." By the time the two arrived at the herd, the sky was a deep orange. Staluk seemed to tighten up as they arrived, his steps were more intimidating, and his chest puffed out just a little bit further. His voice rumbled in his chest as he greeted others, and his words were terse as he gave directions to set up camp.
He remained this was while interacting with every member of his herd he came across, until his steps slowed and eventually came to a halt. A good distance in front of him sat a group of humans. Staluk stood with one leg raised, debating on moving towards them, then quickly placed it back down. He turned to his mate, "Camellia, could you tell the humans we're setting up camp for the night? Wrenges needs help carrying firewood." He feigned a bit of disdain, but there was an air of nervousness in his words.
Once they reached the herd, Camellia split off slightly to weave her way through the clustered centaurs, informing those who had missed Satluk's austere announcement that they were setting up camp for the evening.
It only took a few minutes for the some handful of dozens of their herb members to begin pitching tents and setting up small cook fires, and she wove her way back through the group toward her mate.
Her eyes flickered to the group of eight humans--trailing a bit behind the herd and so not quite at the campsite yet--then back to her mate. She nodded slowly. "Of course. They will most likely wish to part company with us come morning anyway, but we can still offer them the protection of the herd for the night."
Her words were pointed, but still gentle.
Days later, a nervous Staluk stood before the Moonlit Glade, nervous to set hoofs on hallowed ground.
The herd had begun moving south, and covered ground quite quickly, over the course of the journey, Staluk was markedly quiet, even more so than his usual stoic self. His brow was often seen furrowed in deep thought, and it seemed his considerations all stood before him. Turning to Camellia, one leg raised, considering moving forward. His eyes asked a silent question.
‘Is it safe to continue?’
Camellia had been intent to make sure that the herd had properly bedded down for the evening before she led Staluk through the woods away from their little campsite, toward the Grove. Her eyes kept flicking toward him with a strange combination of curiosity and nerves as they picked their way through the foliage; she wasn't entirely sure herself why, but it almost felt...vulnerable. Strange. Like she would be showing him something deeply personal, private.
Which she supposed she was, in a way, but the Grove was hardly a secret, at least not to their herd. Lakali had never said she wasn't allowed to bring visitors.
So she smiled when he looked at her, and extended a hand to touch his arm lightly in encouragement. "Just stay close to me," she told him softly. "The Grove exists in two worlds. I'd rather not get separated," she added with a wry smile.
"Mhm." A nod of understanding came, not of the exact meaning of her words, but of the danger behind them, magic was a fickle friend, and something he felt he was smart enough to fear.
Careful steps took him closer to Camellia as they moved throughout the Grove, he tried to keep his eyes focused on her, but the blooming life around him pulled at his gaze.
"How much longer until we reach her?" Fear sat under his words, and he turned his gaze to the ground in front of him.
Camellia paused, sensing his trepidation, and she reached out to lay a hand gently on his arm. With a soft, reassuring smile, she murmured, "Not much further. She may not be in the mortal side of the Grove, however, so if you'd like to meet her we may have to simply wait for her to appear."
Allowing her hand to drop down to his, she twined their fingers together as she set off again, leading him along through the thin, graceful trees toward the center of the Grove.
A massive willow tree dominated the center of the Grove, clearly many decades older than the thinner trees around it. It grew from a tiny island in the center of a pond, from which a stream leaped and babbled its way back out of the enchanted place into the forest beyond. Though it had been almost full dark when Camellia and Staluk had first set out from the herd, here it was twilit, soft, dusky purple light filtering down around them and setting the strange, silvery flowers that peppered the grass to light, almost seeming to glow with a radiance of their own.
Camellia squeezed her mate's hand as she led him out into the clearing between the younger trees and the willow. "And now we wait."
"Right.." Staluk came to a stop beside her. "Wait."
As he stood, Staluk's eyes couldn't help but wander the glade. Gaze drawn towards the great tree that stood above the rest. His face remained stoney, but his thumbs ran over the back of his hands with nerves. He could almost feel the magical energy surrounding him, as if it was the very air he breathed, seeping into his lungs, suffocating him. His chest expanded, deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to soothe his nerves. His eyes turned to Camellia, trying his best to block out the unfamiliar landscape that surrounded her.
"How much longer should it be?" Staluk was not an impatient creature, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could last in that place.
Her mate's distress was almost palpable, thick in the air, and instinctively she reached out to soothe him, taking his hands in hers and drawing him close so she could rest her head against his shoulder for a moment.
"Hush, love," she murmured, trying to reassure him. "I'm not sure how long. Time is different here, as I said, I can't be sure--"
No sooner had the words left her mouth when the magic in the air shivered and shimmered. Beneath the willow, the air itself seemed to twist, then bend, then slide open, like a gauzy curtain pulled aside with a lazy brush of a hand. From the space between worlds another centaur emerged, though this one had the lower body of a massive, elk-like creature, her brow crowned with antlers as fine as any forest king's.
Camellia stepped back from her mate, crossing one arm over her chest and bowing deeply at the waist. "My lady."
Lakali smiled, golden eyes glinting in the perpetual twilight. "Dear one, you know I have no need for such formalities," the fae woman murmured, taking a step toward the two mortals. She paused, casting her eyes over the stallion curiously. "And you have brought..."
"Staluk," Camellia supplied quickly, straightening up. She glanced at him, then smiled gently and took his hand in hers once more, squeezing his fingers softly. I'm here. Everything is alright. "My mate, and our Herd Stallion."
Staluk's body tensed as Camellia took his hands, then relaxed as she pulled him close. His breathing slowed to a normal rate, and his eyes relaxed, focusing on her.
This brief respite was cut short, however, as the Lady of the Glade made her entrance. Suddenly, he was left alone and anxious once more, but composed himself before he made this outwardly known. Eyes looking towards his mate, he copied her bow, but remained silent, this was not his place to speak.
He was content to simply stand back and watch the interaction, until the fae acknowledged him directly. His gaze remained low as Camellia introduced him.
"I am honored to watch you run." A horribly dated traditional greeting, one he had learned from the Herd Elders before he was able to properly wield an axe. Embarrassment soon washed over him, but he remained silent.
Camellia smiled, charmed as ever by her mate's fumbling, and the Guardian just looked at him, seeming rather befuddled, but not unkind.
"And...to you," she replied slowly—clearly the greeting was unfamiliar to her, but she wished to reciprocate the sentiment.
"Staluk wanted to see the Glade for himself," Camellia offered when a few moments passed and no one said anything more. She looked up at him with a smile and reached over to squeeze his hand again. "He defends the herd well, my lady. He wished to know what I defend it for."
"I see." Lakali's eyes swept over them both, warm but distant, almost calculating. "And what do you find here, Herd Stallion? Does the Glade speak to you as it does your mate?"
Staluk couldn't help but smile a bit at Camellia's compliment, but his face turned stony once again when the fae spoke to him.
'Magic bad.' His mind chanted loud in his head like a neanderthal, his pulse sounding in his ears like a club striking dirt.
Staluk looked around, taking in one thing at a time. The gentle swaying of the trees, the softest of shimmers in the air. It frightened him, not in the way a child fears a spider, nor a cat fears a snake, but it was a feeling that reached into his very core. Doom was the only word he had to describe this sensation, and it showed in his face.
"I don't." He answered plainly. Staluk was up to many tasks, but lying was not one of them. "There are few words for me here, Patron Lakali. I am not as gifted as my better half, I'm afraid."
Perhaps surprisingly, Lakali smiled. Then she dipped her head to him--not a bow, but still clearly a gesture of respect.
"I admire and appreciate your candor, Staluk," the fae creature murmured. Her eyes flickered to Camellia and her smile took on a hint of something almost teasing, sisterly. "You chose your mate well, my dear."
The Lead Mare actually blushed, ducking her eyes for a moment to hide her own small smile, though she kept her fingers firmly entwined with her mate's. "I like to think so, my lady."
Lakali smiled again, almost chuckled, and turned her attention back to the Herd Stallion before her expression sobered slightly. "Magic is a gift, yes. But those who cannot wield or sense it are no less truly gifted than those that can. Your gifts are in your strength--both of body and character--and in your willingness to brave the unknown."
The smile was back as she looked between them. "I can see you are afraid, were afraid to come here. And yet you came anyway. For her?"
Staluk faltered, if only for a moment. His eyes look to Camellia, then to Lakali. He knew how he wanted to answer, but struggled to find the words. His grip on his mate's hands grew firm, then he answered.
"I come for all of us." He spoke resolutely. "I love my people, but I can only help so much if I am blind to why we run. I wonder if.." He paused, eyes looking to the floor, not in fear, but out of respect for his patron.
"I do not mean to question the hunter in her land, Patron Lakali, but it seems the Herd does more fleeing than running these days." His body turned away from the fae, back to the direction from where they came.
"The oldest of us reminisce on the battles of our past, but our young barely remember how to wield a sword. I know we have changed our ways, but the land hasn't." Staluk raised his head, and his eyes met Lakali's.
"The humans ravage our land in their wars, and what remains, they poach. I fear there will be nothing left." His gaze met Camellia's, worry in his eyes.
"At least, nothing left here."
Camellia simply looked back at him in silence, her expression...complicated. Sympathetic, worried, sorrowful, determined--but not disappointed. Even if she felt it, it didn't show.
She shook her head slowly. "I know you're worried, my love," she murmured softly, "but we cannot go back. We've come too far to return to the old ways, we cannot..." Her breath left her in a long, low exhale, eyes skating away. "We just...can't. Of course we must still defend ourselves, of course. But how can we train the young when we have no place to call our own? How can we hunt with humans dogging our steps?"
Her shoulders tensed, moving up toward her ears. There was anger in her voice, not with Staluk, but still there, bubbling beneath her words. She had spent so many years trying to learn to forgive, sometimes she just...forgot. Almost.
"Where would you have us go?" she whispered, her eyes on the ground. Lakali was silent, simply watching the two mortals from a distance. "What would you have us do? We tried to fight. For generations we tried to fight, and all we did was earn more pain--for our enemies but also for ourselves. I don't...I can't see another way.
"Will you say nothing?" The words came out with a rumble in Staluk's chest, like mighty thunder. His eyes glared at the silent Fae, then his gaze shifted to his perturbed mate. He clenched his fist, there would be no lightning here today.
He turned so that his body faced Lakali fully, his chest puffed out, not in a show of strength, but of uncompromised resolve. He did not come all this way to buckle here. "Camellia spoke highly of the wisdom this glade offered, this place does not speak to me, but I had hoped it's keeper might."
He took heavy steps towards the Fae, his eyes locked on hers, until they were mere inches away from each other. "I was told you would shepherd our herd to wider plains. I will not stand idly by as you leave us to the wolves." A hoof slammed into the ground to punctuate his point.
"Staluk!"
Camellia's shout was equal parts reprimanding and suddenly terrified. And it seemed she had a right to be.
Lakali, who had been watching the conversation in silence with that soft, warm glow to her eyes, suddenly lifted her head and straightened her spine. Staluk was not small, but as the Keeper of the Moonlit Glade gripped her staff and held it across her body in a clear defensive stance, allowing herself to draw up to her full height, she suddenly towered over him. The points of her antlers glinted in the twilight, wickedly sharp, and the warm had abruptly left her eyes.
"I have tolerated your presence here, mortal, for her sake. But do not think you may trespass the borders of this place with such disrespect and still flee untouched."
Camellia gasped and took an instinctive step back, hands flying up to cover her ears. When Lakali spoke, it was with the voice of the Keeper--not a single voice, but hundreds, thousands, soft as a whisper and yet thunderous. The Glade around them shivered with the sudden power in the air, trees curving toward their guardian, the soft lavender light flickering toward something darker. In the sudden shadows, Lakali's eyes were the only light, gleaming gold. Burning.
"I am not your shepherd," the Keeper hissed, each word a new thrum of magic through the air. Camellia struggled to keep her feet, instinctively reaching out for her mate to try to pull him back. "I am not your guide. Your Herd and your struggle drew my sympathy, but you. Are. Tiny. You are a flicker of light in the endless darkness, gone but the moment you shine. I am eternal. What are you to me, mortal thing?"
She stared him down, heat and shadow and magic swirling through the air around them, suffocating, closing in--
And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had begun. Lakali closed her eyes and sighed, leaning on her staff seemingly for support as she allowed her head and shoulders to curve forward slightly. Camellia sucked in a sharp, desperate breath, and suddenly she could move again. She twisted around in an effort to place her body between the Keeper and her mate, head bowed in a desperate bid of respect.
"Forgive me, my lady. I should not have come here this night. We'll go," she murmured, voice shaking slightly.
"...Little Blossom."
The Lead Mare jerked her head up, surprised the fae woman would have used the pet name after such a display--surprised she'd bothered to speak to her again at all, after that.
Lakali's eyes no longer held that warmth, but they were softer again. "I am not your shepherd," she repeated, and Camellia's stomach twisted. "But...perhaps I can offer a word of advice." She tilted her head, looked between mare and stallion.
"Sometimes the way forward, is the way back."
And she was gone. Blended into moonlight and magic as though she had never been.
Staluk's fists clenched tight, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm as he stared the guardian down. Rage boiled within him, the anger of prey backed into a corner, the sudden ferocity of the deer when its back is to a wall. He would not move, even as this thing- this demon closed in with its sorcery.
Suddenly, it stopped, but Staluk was a statue still. Even as his mate stood before him, trying to ease the thing's wrath. The ringing in his ears drowned out most of their words, so Staluk was left to seethe in his own thoughts. Never again would he bow before magic. He watched as Lakali spoke to the mare, and the suddenly, it vanished, and he could move again.
"I was a fool to have come here." The only words he spoke before he turned around and began to walk back the way he came.
"Staluk--Staluk, wait."
She was only a few steps behind him, turning her back on the Grove more quickly than she ever had before. The warm magic of the place was no longer welcoming, no longer calling her to stay just a moment or two longer, surely that wouldn't do any harm...
"Staluk, look at me," Camellia demanded, breaking into a brief canter so she could wheel around in front of her mate and plant herself before him, eyes fierce and mouth drawn into a thin line.
The Lead Mare may have been the one to declare that the Moonflower Herd would follow a path of peace, but she had not come to that conclusion lightly, or easily. The tense, sharp lines of her body, the snapping fire behind her eyes, were an abrupt reminder that Camellia had been just as much a warrior as her mate ever was--and that perhaps that anger, that fire, had not truly faded from her spirit. Not really.
Though she was smaller than him, she drew herself up to her full height and made it very clear, even without words, that if he wanted to get passed her he was going to have to physically remove her from his path.
Staluk stomped silently through the glade, Camellia's call falling on deaf ears, his brow was furrowed, eyes locked forward to the path ahead of him. In that moment, the only thing he cared about was returning to the Herd, and getting it as far away from that place as possible. Then, barrier presented herself in front of him, one he could not bring himself to move.
'Look at me.'
Look at her he did, and the fire in her eyes was what brought him to heel, seeing her frustration seemed to temper his own. Truthfully, this resolve on display was why he followed her, her strength, this warrior's ferocity, this was why he cared for her so. Remembering this, he seemed to cool down, if only a little, then crossed his arms over his chest.
"I see you."
"Do you?"
The words were quick, sharp, cutting. A demand as much as an accusation.
Camellia closed her eyes for a moment, took a breath in what seemed to be an effort to center herself, then looked up to meet his gaze again. Her expression was a little softer, but the fire had not faded, not completely.
"Do you see me?" she repeated, voice a little gentler even if her eyes weren't. "Do you see what I am? What I've become? Do you see what I've done to try to protect our people?"
She closed her eyes again and finally dropped her head, shoulders hunching forward slightly. "Do you think I don't hate them?" she whispered, so low it almost couldn't be heard over the wind in the trees. "Humans took everything from me, Staluk. Do you truly think I am able to move on, to bear them no ill will?"
Her jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at her sides. "Do you think I take the Keeper's words lightly? That she just...told me peace was the best path, and I listened? No. Staluk I saw. She gave me visions, flashes of a future I never want for our people, never. And this, what we are now, is the only way I know to prevent it."
Another sigh, and she lifted her head again to look up into his face. The fire behind her eyes was smoldering embers now, flickering and desperate and warm. "Human greed took everything from me," she whispered. One hand reached up to cup his cheek in her palm. "Please. I can't loose you too. Not to this."
Did he have any idea of the risk he'd taken, speaking to Lakali like that? A creature as old and powerful as the Keeper could have snuffed out his life like a candle in a brisk wind. Even if Camellia still believed she never truly would.
And it became clear that more than angry with him, his mate was afraid. Not so much of the Keeper herself, but of the risk Staluk had taken.
Staluk was quiet, Camellia had given up everything she had known for their people's sake, but admittedly, he never gave the notion much thought. He wasn't there, he hadn't seen what was at stake- maybe he should have been. Instead, he was halfway across the continent chasing revenge, and he regretted it more than ever in that very moment. If he had been there, maybe it would not have come to this.
"You will never lose me, Camellia." A simple response, but it came from the heart, but his hand moved up to take hers off his cheek.
"I will run with you, always, but I will not bow before demons who claim to know whats best for our people. Not when they flaunt the very forces that stole them from us." Staluk made a motion to step forward, hoping Camellia would move from his path.
Camellia didn't budge.
"You...impossible man!" Gritting her teeth, she stamped her back hooves in an unconscious gesture of agitation. "No one asked you to bow to her, just--don't provoke her! Damnit, Staluk!"
The Lead Mare had been a stalwart presence for their herd for years now. Always steady, always calm, ready to make the difficult choices without allowing emotion to override her sense of logic. In just a few moments, that thin veneer of control had washed away, revealing the snapping, fiery spirit that Camellia had been attempting to contain since the last raid on their people.
"Lakali just wants to help! She doesn't have to, she doesn't owe us anything, she isn't demanding anything of us! She offers advice, and I may or may not choose to follow it. The fact that I normally do has no bearing on her position as our patron!"
"Look at where her help has gotten us!" Staluk shouted, throwing an arm to his side in frustration. Staluk seldom raised his voice, but his temper had already burned short once that day, so there was not much left of his fuse. His face froze up for a moment, then fell, 'I didn't mean to yell.' Words he was too afraid to say. He breathed deeply, collecting his anger, then let out a frustrated sigh.
"You look at her as if she is one of us. Like she is something that we can become." Staluk turned away from her then, twilight breaking through the trees, throwing light across the scars and burns that ran up and down his back. "She is not."
His head turned, and his eyes gazed into Camellia's with a mixture of anger and dread. "We are dying, Camellia, and it is the worst death. Your patron does not understand that, if she does, she does not seem to care."
"How do you expect anyone to accept council from a creature that would see them snuffed out with such apathy?"
Camellia took a step back. Her eyes were wide, though the anger and fear had left them, replaced with something...very close to heartbreak.
She shook her head slowly. The fire visibly drained from her.
"...Is that really what you think of me?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, tiny and hurt. She said nothing to his opinion of Lakali--she should have known better than to bring him to the Glade, known he wouldn't truly understand, though it was through no fault of his own--but still...
"Do you truly think I'm so weak?" She wouldn't meet his eyes, her own gaze cast down toward her hooves. "That I look to her as--as some sort of idol? Something to strive for? That I cannot accept her council without doing so utterly blindly?"
Another step back. Her arms came up to hug her waist gently. She shook her head again. "If that is truly how you feel, I'm only surprised you've followed me this long." Her voice trembled slightly, but that core of steel began to reinsert itself--though it was not the same flash of battle-spirit from before, this was... Tired. Wary. Drawing in on herself in an effort to fend off an unknown hurt.
"Camellia.." His eyes looked to her in guilt, then to the floor as he turned back around to face her. He did so without speaking, as he did not know what to say. The quiet remained for some time, the sound of the Glade being the only thing to fend off the silence between them. Staluk's mouth opened to speak many times, but no words ever came, until finally,
"You should not have brought me here. I am sorry I asked you to come."
His voice was quiet, more than that, it was weak, the booming pride that carried his words reduced to a whisper.
The sudden softness to his tone twisted at her heart. She ignored the feeling, pushing it away as she turned to face the path back out through the trees once more. She wouldn't look at him.
"I'm not." Her voice was calm and even, and utterly blank. It had been a long time since she had locked her mate from her heart, but it seemed that was what she was doing now, intentionally or not. "If this is what you feel, I am glad to learn it now, rather than later."
She had to hide a wince as the harshness of her own words hit her ears, but she didn't try to take them back. She was silent for a moment, then sighed quietly and allowed her shoulders to curve forward. Another breath, then she took the first few steps down the path that would lead them back to their Herd.
"...Come. They will begin to worry for us soon. We can discuss our next move in the morning."
'If this is what you feel, I am glad to learn it now, rather than later.' Staluk's head dipped at her harsh words, but they did not feel undeserved.
"Hm." Staluk gave an affirmative nod and followed behind her, but kept a distance between them. He was silent the entire journey back, so much so that, if one wasn't looking at his enormous frame, it was as if he didn't exist. He spoke no words, his breaths were slow, and the usual thud of his hooves was reduced the quiet rustling of the grass beneath them.
He greeted no one when the two returned to the Herd, only speaking to one of the other stallions before the two silently went out to patrol the perimeter, and they were not to return until the following morning.
Camellia moved quietly among the Moonflower Herd, speaking softly with her people as they all set about bedding down. Her eyes flickered to Staluk when he and another stallion—barely more than a colt, really, and the boy did idolize the Herd Stallion quite fiercely—began their patrol. She looked away again quickly.
Her chest ached.
She did not allow it to show on her face, finishing her rounds with her usual patient smile before finding a place to bed down herself.
It was strange to set up the traveling tent and curl onto her side beneath it without her mate’s warmth at her back. Even when he participated in the evening patrols, she always knew he’d be there when she woke in the morning.
She did not have that certainty now.
Dawn broke cool and clear; autumn was well on its way, it seemed. Camellia woke with a shiver, twisting her upper body automatically to look for Staluk, wondering why she was so cold—then she remembered.
...I have to speak with him.
Not just about this. In fact, whatever was happening between them—again, that ache in her chest, unyielding—may have to be shunted to the side temporarily in favor of dealing with the more pressing concern of the immediate future of the Herd. She had been thinking on Lakali’s words, and had arrived at a decision.
In most circumstances, she thought Staluk might have actually approved.
Another sigh, and she got to her feet. She needed to find her mate.
Staluk and the Stallion returned as the first rays of dawn broke past the horizon, if Staluk was tired, it did not show, but the same could not be said for his companion. The young centaur's name was Owis, and though he tried to mimic Staluk's composure by feigning an excited demeanor, he was clearly exhausted. "Good work." The only words he offered the lad before venturing deeper into the Herd.
From there, he attended to the rest of his responsibilities as the rest of the Herd began to leave their tents. Starting fire pits, performing headcounts, speaking with the other seasoned centaurs, these things were his duty as Herd Stallion, yes, but more importantly, the work kept his mind busy. He would not see himself dwelling on words he wished he had never said.
From afar, he saw his mate exit their tent, but was unsure if he should approach her, a tenseness finding him then. Instead, he opted to fiddle awkwardly with some nearby supplies, only halfway pretending to be taking some sort of inventory, hoping she wouldn't notice him.
Unluckily for her mate, before her elevation to Lead Mare Camellia had been one of the Herd's finest reconnaissance scouts--it didn't take her very long at all to take stock of the people around her and find that one discordant note among the relatively sleepy morning preparations.
She took a breath to steady herself. She was not Camellia and he was not Staluk; they were Lead Mare and Herd Stallion, and they had a job to do.
She passed Owis as she moved toward her mate, giving the young man a smile and a nod of gratitude, urging, "Get some rest. We have an hour or so before we'll be on the move again."
She wove her way through the herd until she was only a few lengths away from Staluk, watching him fiddle with what appeared to be a half empty sack. Almost despite herself, she felt a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth--damn him for being so endearing, even in this.
"Staluk." She kept her voice calm and even. To the rest of the Herd, absolutely nothing was amiss between their two leaders. "We must speak, and make our plans for the day's travel. Walk with me?"
"Of course." He said, in an unnaturally loud tone. Everything was fine, totally fine. Subtlety was not one of the Stallions specialties. He set the sack back down, giving a nod as if everything inside was accounted for and up to his standards. Following Camellia as she walked, he waited until they were out of earshot to speak again.
"What did you want to discuss?"
"We will return south."
She stared at him, calm and cool. This is the easy part. Just tell him the plan. This was what he'd been arguing for almost since he rejoined the Herd after that last raid, after all. Surely he wouldn't object.
"We will return to the plains, one last time. One last attempt. If we cannot find a way to make a home there...we will come north again. For good, this time." She lifted her chin up and stared at him, cold and resolute as stone. "Will you agree?"
"I- what?" Staluk took a half step back, confused and a fairly shocked by her almost callous delivery. He was unsure of what to make of her announcement, it was not often he found himself surprised, but he tried to compose himself. He would start with his answer, for that is something he was certain of.
"I will follow you wherever you lead, Camellia." He took a breath after saying so, looking down at the ground in perplexed thought. In their years together, the stallion always tried to see his mates reasoning behind her choices, for better or worse, but in this instance, he looked at her and could only see his own.
"May I ask.. what brought this about?" Staluk only half heard Lakali's advice, and even then he tossed it out as the backward-speak of those who are touched by magic. Regardless, if what Camellia said to him in the forest was even half-true, she would have her own reasoning for coming to this decision.
She was almost tempted to bite out, Will you? But she held her tongue. That was a childish response, lashing out after being hurt. She had decided to attempt reconciliation--and at least her mate seemed willing to go along with the attempt.
"Because..." She paused. Unthinking, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth as her brow furrowed. It was a habit from a much younger mare, and one she'd thought she'd lost when she took up her mother's mantle as leader of their Herd.
When she realized what she was doing she stopped quickly and flushed, glancing away. She didn't want him to think her uncertain. "Because...you were right. Perhaps not in everything, but it... I have been running away, as much as I have been running forward." She sighed and closed her eyes, resisted the urge to rub at her temples. "I still believe our best choice--our only choice--is to build a new life, far from the old one. But...I know that a part of me has resisted returning to the plains because...because I am afraid."
Her voice lowered with the admission, until she was almost whispering. The warrior in her, long dormant but by no means forgotten, balled her hands into fists by her sides. "I do not want to go back there. I do not want to be reminded of our loss. I do not want to see the fields we hunted and the streams we followed and remember my parents, and my sister, and--"
Her voice broke. She paused, taking a few breaths to collect herself.
When she opened her eyes again, that mismatched gaze was once more calm and clear. Any hint of the turmoil inside her had been firmly locked away again. "But perhaps sometimes the way forward is the way back. We shall see."
She started to step around him, move back toward the camp, then paused. Voice low, she murmured, "I'm not doing this for her. I'm not even entirely sure that I'm doing it for you. But you were right. It was more than hope for the future that kept me from our old home. I will not let fear of the past stifle us."
Staluk's stern expression faltered at her words, he wanted so dearly to reach out to her then, to offer any sort of solace in her choice, but all he could manage was nods and small noises of affirmation.
Upon hearing her admission, that she was afraid, his face became more confused than anything. Staluk had known Camellia to be many things, calculating, careful, perhaps- but fear was not something he had seen her wear often. Even still, he was quiet then, but his eyes moved between the grass and her own, searching for something to say.
Eventually her voice broke, and again he would say nothing, afraid to speak. After a pause, she would hide those feelings away. 'Fair enough.' He supposed.
He understood her fears, and did his best to make this empathy known, she had begun to step around him, speaking once more. "I will not let fear of the past stifle us." Staluk reached out hesitantly, to take hold of her hand.
"I know that you won't Camellia, but allow me to chase this fear with you." The words came out awkwardly, but he held eye contact with her despite this. He wished to say other things, too, 'Sorry' being at the top of that list, but this is all he could manage.
She offered him a small smile. At least he was trying, she supposed. "...Always, my heart."
A part of her wanted to reach out to touch him, but she held back. She honestly wasn't sure if she was ready for that, or if she'd really properly forgiven him. Just because she could understand what he'd said and done didn't make the hurt sting any less.
"Come, we must inform the others of the change in plan." It was so easy to slide back into the role of Lead Mare. Safe.
"Hm." Staluk responded in the affirmative, releasing his grasp on her hand before following Camellia back into camp.
Upon their arrival, Staluk went to work rounding up the Herd into one of the larger clearings of the camp. After gathering up the stragglers, he entered their tent, albeit a bit hesitantly.
"Everyone is gathered outside, Camellia." He stood at the opening, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
"How do you plan to go about this?"
How did she plan to go about this?
The same way she usually did, she supposed: meticulous planning, and then winging it when things inevitably went sideways.
But she smiled as though she wasn't worried about anything at all and gave her mate a nod as she stepped around him toward the entrance of the tent. "I'll tell them the truth." Or at least, a portion of it.
The news that they would be heading back south was received surprisingly well, if with a mixture of confusion and something like wariness. But her people trusted her; she just had to hope she could live up to their faith in her.
Quite without her permission, she found her eyes sliding sideways toward Staluk as she moved through camp, helping the herd begin to pack up and prepare for the journey. Well. Most of their faith, I guess.
That still hurt. More than she was willing to admit. But he had accepted her decision easily enough, and he supported her in front of their people. For now, at least, that was enough.
Staluk was unsurprised by the Herd's reception to the news, for no other reason than his expectation of their people to follow Camellia, regardless of their personal beliefs. As he made preparations for the move south, he stole glances of his mate when he could. Eventually, he feared she had caught on, as he felt her gaze fall on him as he was preparing the other centaurs that were of fighting age of the journey to come.
With his responsibilities taken care of, he returned to their tent, packing up his few belongings, his axe being the only possession he had that he handled with any care. He turned it over in his hands, almost tenderly so, staring at his reflection in the metal, lost in rumination.
"...It hasn't gotten up and walked away from you then?"
Camellia's voice came from the entrance to their tent, where she'd been standing watching for just a few moments. She offered a small, slightly lopsided smile and took a few steps into the tent itself, allowing the flap of fabric to swing closed behind her.
She nodded to the ax he held to emphasize her point. "What are you thinking of?"
Staluk gave a small chuckle when Camellia spoke, whether it was at her jest, or himself, could not be discerned.
He turned to face her as she walked into the tent, axe still in hand, letting it drop a bit in his grip before moving his gaze to his mate. "Things that were." He answered simply at first, before letting the pommel of the weapon hit the ground with a loud thud.
"Moving south brings back some memories. Fights, friends, family.." He trailed off, giving a sigh, his breath fogging the blade.
"I wonder sometimes how things would be if my sister were with the Herd, instead of me."
Camellia merely watched him for a moment, her eyes scanning his face with that same gleam they got when she was trying to work through a particularly stubborn problem with multiple possibilities but no real solutions.
What could she say? I'm sorry? She'd said it before for those losses; they both had, a thousand times by now. And it never made any difference. Their families were still gone, and after a while all I'm sorry really did was acknowledge the grief, becoming a platitude.
So instead she took another step toward him and reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. The touch was a little hesitant--she still wasn't exactly sure where they stood--but after a moment she sighed and drew him down to rest her brow against his.
"I miss them, too," she whispered, closing her eyes. Her fingers traced down his cheek, along the line of his throat, over his shoulder and down his arm to find his hand and grip it gently. "But I'm glad you're here, Staluk. I'm glad you're with me..."
"I love you," not words Staluk would say often, but the only ones that currently came to mind as he grasped Camellia's hand. Her hand was so much smaller than his, but he felt wholly embraced by it, warm, safe. Staluk took another breath.
"We should get back to the Herd." He said almost disappointingly, his grip still held on her hand. He spoke the words, but without his usual rumble behind them. He did not want to let go, but duty was getting the better of him. He never knew how to act in times like this. He was a single-minded creature, and was aware of this fact, but it only ever presented itself as a problem when there should be none to speak of.
He tried he best to keep these conflicting feelings contained, but struggled then, giving a sigh as he ran his thumb over Camellia's hand.
Her smile, when it came, was small and sad, but almost painfully genuine. She pressed her brow to his and closed her eyes for a moment with a soft sigh. "I love you, too," she whispered. "You are, and will always be, the strongest part of my heart."
She knew he was right, they should return to the Herd so they could start moving. But she made no move to leave, nor did she release his hand.
"Staluk--" She searched his face, opened her mouth, hesitated, sighed, then closed her eyes again and pressed forward into him for a moment, wrapping her arms around his waist. "...I wish you would talk to me," she whispered eventually. "I know it's hard for you. But I--I want to help. If I can."
She hesitated a moment longer, then tilted her head up to kiss him softly, just for a moment, before pulling back and finally letting go of his hand. "I'll make sure the others are ready. We can leave within the hour."
'I wish you would talk to me.' He said nothing at that, responding only by returning her kiss before they broke their embrace, giving a "Hm." in affirmation as Camellia left to finish their preparations.
Staluk would stay awhile, watching her leave before packing up the rest of their belongings, as well as their tent.
The beginning of the Herd's trek south was off to an uneventful start, Staluk often staying ahead of the main body, eyes on the watch for danger that would not come. Eventually, the Herd slowed to a halt, allowing its members to rest. Most of them, at the very least.
Staluk could be found a ways away from the campfires that had already begun to spring up, overlooking a map as the sun began to make a slow descent towards the plains' horizon. He made marks on the parchment, tracking movements of some sort, before giving a heavy sigh and dropping himself to the soft grass beneath him.
"What is to become of our people?" A question aimed to the sky above, but received no response, nor did he expect one, but he knew no one else to ask.
Camellia simply watched him for a moment, the growing shadows dappling her coat as she moved away from the fires.
Finally, she exhaled a soft breath and picked her way carefully over to stand beside him--not too loud, but not as quietly as she could have moved either, wanting him to be aware of her presence so she wouldn't startle him.
"Do you get an answer?" she asked softly, glancing down at him. A small part of her brain noted that it was strange to see him from this angle; she didn't often get the chance, he was quite a bit taller than her. Nodding upward, where a few first stars were beginning to appear, she elaborated, "When you ask them."
"Never." Staluk spoke, turning his head to look up at her as his shadow stretched across the grass.
"The stories say the stars hold secrets, I suppose I cannot help but ask sometimes." He let out a tired chuckle, whether at the situation, or himself, he could not tell. "Perhaps I should pose the question to the one that runs among us." He gave a small sigh at that, before a switch of sorts seemed to go off in his mind, and his shoulders tensed ever so slightly.
"Is something the matter?" He asked Camellia. "Do we need to continue moving?"
"No. No, nothing like that." With a sigh, she settled in beside him, curving her body to fit against his and letting her head rest on his shoulder--essentially forcing him to release the tension in his body in order to accommodate her. "We're safe here for the night. I just..."
She hesitated. A strange fluttering feeling, like a thousand tiny wings, had taken up residence in her chest. It wasn't something she was unfamiliar with, it had just been so long since she'd felt it. Felt it around him.
She didn't want to admit it, it felt like a weakness. But perhaps her inability to share those vulnerabilities had landed them where they were--she couldn't place all the blame for their communication on him, it wasn't fair.
"...I miss you," she murmured, tipping her head back to look at the stars. "I know you're right here. I know you always have been. But it...lately, it feels like you're...gone, somehow." She sighed and moved her hand slightly to brush her fingers over the back of his. "You're a good leader, Staluk, a good Herd Stallion. You make us all stronger, and I know how much that takes from you. I'm...worried it takes too much."
Another sigh and she straightened up a bit, lifting her head from his shoulder. "After the Glade...I can feel you slipping away from me, Staluk. And I don't know how to stop it." There was a slight shiver in her voice and she ducked her head, clearing her throat in an effort to hide it.