He wanted to squirm and writhe under her gaze, the frown appearing on her pretty two-toned face speaking its clear language. Should he tell her that he really wanted to stay but that the darkness and the mist had a way of bringing out the worst, the darkest, the most unpleasant things in him? Ought he tell her of the numerous times he had withdrawn into himself and shirked his duties because of a gnawing feeling of worthlessness, of the conflicts within brought about by the constant need for vigilance and the brave, kind-hearted but oh, so naive desire to believe the best in people that haunted the Qian? Perhaps she would understand if he told her that he even now was on high alert, always waiting to see the mists swirl and part before a black mare draped in shadows and night, dragon-touched and mysterious - and so beautiful that she made his heart ache in longing. How could Kahlua expect him to stay when every second in the shade of the trees tore his heart into pieces because she wasn't there too, to smile her elusive smiles, give him answers and guidance and bring him back down to earth when his own mind wished to escape.
But Lace said nothing more, just shook his head with a sad, sad smile and left it at that. He was grateful when she without hesitation accepted his plea for lodging and followed along in her wake as she headed off into the trees, intent on visiting the children. The stallion did so quietly however, simply smiling at Brisa and bowing her to go ahead before he followed; without thinking much about it bringing up the rear, so that nothing could get to the trio from behind.
It was heartbreaking to feel the mist close in around him. The equine felt as though he was being embraced by soft, cool arms, brought into a hazy bosom to relax and calm down. Memories washed over him, four years worth of smiles, frowns, happiness and sadness that kept bombarding him. The trail they followed was so familiar he could have walked it with his eyes closed, he thought he knew every tree, every brook and hidden spring, every moss-covered tree. Torn between laughter and tears he turned his head this way and that, greedily absorbing every detail and noting changes with almost jealous eagerness. He hadn't been there to see that tree fall. He hadn't watched ice and cold blast that boulder apart, scattering the rock in heaps around the core. He passed the broken remains of the Wall with a gasp of surprise, unaware that it had been destroyed - golden eyes quickly turned to Kahlua with a storm of questions lurking in their depths. Why hadn't she mended it? What about defense, what of the threat from the north? Had they hated the wall so much that they didn't care to repair it - but why had no one told him when he suggested building it?
He wasn't even sure what it was that made him stumble and sidestep, didn't care to look; he just knew that he drew closer to Brisa's shimmering pale figure, as though being closer to a familiar figure might help him through this. Struggling desperately to hold himself together he took to studying her as they went, a hundred questions burning to be answered in regards to her as well - he had never known she had a mate or cared for children at all.
"How old are your twins?" he asked her quietly and hurried up his steps to walk alongside her, long legs matching her pace so that he could look her in the eye. "Who's the proud father?" Or maybe you shouldn't ask such things? He wouldn't know.
@[Brisa]
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