Finally, he stirs.
He has no idea how long he has lain on the wet forest floor—how many hours or minutes have passed since Helovia had been crumbled into
nothing, and everything he had come to know (and love) had been swallowed by the rioting darkness. The stallion shifts his large weight, and a groan escapes from clenched lips as he realizes how stiff and sore his muscles are. Blearily he blinks his eyes open, narrowing his gaze as he squints against the strange shadows and pulsing lights that dance around him.
From somewhere close by, he hears a warbling chirp of a baby bird.
Remembering then that his soul is not his own, the stallion rolls over onto his side, wincing at the sudden pain that shoots through his shoulder. Dutifully he shakes it off, shuffling uneasily to his feet, numb to the warm blood that oozes from the wound, matting the long hair on his foreleg. He keeps his head low, breathing a slow breath across the downy feathers of his barely-hatched companion. The ashen-brown hawkling looks nauseous, and weary, but otherwise unharmed. Ever so gently, Rohan lifts his dear companion onto his back, where the bird nestles into the long hair across his withers.
He sighs to himself, twisting his ears back before stepping further into the living, writhing shadows.
There is only one woman on his mind, now. He searches for her, ignoring the glowing eyes that watch him, sending a tingling sensation down his neck that puts his nerves on edge. He doesn’t even notice how he clenches his jaw until he finally
sees her, and his muscles relax with relief to see her alive.
“Enna!” He breathes her name, ignoring the throbbing of his bruised body as he rushes forward to her resting figure.
“Enna, are you hurt?” His voice is laced with worry and his brow knits together with concern as the stallion draws close, lowering his head. He hovers near her cheek, wanting nothing more than to reach out and embrace her, but the echo of her last hateful words hold him back like a tether. Instead he waits with baited breath, the weight of his body leaning towards the mare his heart so desperately yearns for. The shadows of the damp forest dance in his peripheral view—a constant reminder that they are not alone.
tag; @
Enna
“Speech.”
The Portal
