The stallion laughs, and I wonder what has amused him so. I had made my assumption based on his manners, on his sensible and protective nature - perhaps he had foals of his own, a family who he was used to protecting from harm's way, and I had happened to luck into getting into harm's way in his presence. But then he denied his mate's existence, and I couldn't help the surprised widening of my eyes, the raising of a brow as I considered him for a few more milliseconds than normal. A smile quirked at my lips as he spoke of the queen of hearts, and I wondered, quite genuinely, how he had been overlooked by the flocks of females who surely had noticed him. He was young (in appearance, at least), in the prime of his life, boasting fine health and impeccable manners, a wisdom beyond his years and a bond to a beautiful dragon. I realised I knew nothing more of him though - his history, his desires, whether this was his true nature or simply a faux he paraded to get through life. And then I realised something else - none of it mattered. I liked him, at least, just the part of him I had seen.

It was a foreign thought to me, to think of spending time with a soul that wasn't yours, Sitka, and in your absence besides, and enjoy it. It had been so long since genuine, unrequited happiness had bloomed within me, and not been immediately followed by a wave of unstoppable guilt and smothering regret. I was still shy to admit it, keen to deny it until it had been proven to be successful numerous times, or at least until it happened so often that I no longer felt it was an important thing to notice.

My dull words brought the stallions attention to the fallen branch, the broken trunk, and I watched as he fell into a sort of trance - the one I knew was associated with calling upon magical energy - and I watched in amazement as he proved to be a stallion not only of Suns but Earth too. The scent of new life tingled in my nostrils, fresh and spicy and announcing the promise of new beginnings, second chances, of new things to prove to the world and the determination to succeed no matter what happened. The gesture rocked me a little bit, as its meaning sunk in even before he spoke again, causing a trembling to re-enter my limbs as nerves fire and an emotion I cannot define rushes through me. Was it excitement, or fear? Realisation that I had no excuses, that I had to move on from your death? I will never heal from the hole you left behind in me, Sitka, your absence is as much a part of me as your presence once was. He speaks, and my thoughts are thrust into a vision of the future, of when the branch grew out further, a healthy young suckling supported by its parents trunk, spouting its first leaves, maybe even some small flowers decorated its spindly limbs.

I tear my eyes away from the branch, and bow my crown down to my chest, eyes blinking back the burning of tears that threaten to overflow. I do not wish him to see them, to misconstrue them, for what he has given me was a gift, unbidden and unrequited, and I am not sure I am strong enough to accept it yet. I swallow back the saline liquid, and when I look up again, I try to reward the stallion with a genuine, grateful smile. "Thank you." I say softly, before I reached out to him with my plush muzzle, and blow my warm breath against whichever area it happened to land. I was not healed, not yet, but he had somehow convinced me that I could live on regardless, scarred and forever carrying the weight of my memories with me, but at least, living.

My wings spread out from my sides, and I indicated that it was time for me to leave. I needed movement, despite my tiredness, I needed space - the space of the sky above us would do. "I best find myself another tree," I murmur by his ears gently, clicking a wink over my nearest cerulean eye. As I pulled away from him, I looked to Fajira, bowing my crown to her, the action loaded with meaning I knew she would grasp. A similar expression washed over me as it had Lace just earlier, as I called upon the magic that would not only fill my wings with a robust breeze and give me ample lift for take-off, but also part the canopy above, where my star-kissed hide would rejoin the star-filled sky above.

the Wind Dancer