oh please god, wake me
My precious Macaria, my baby, no...
Despite the sweat that covered his body and his huffing breaths, the behemoth felt cold. He felt cold down to his very core. Tears welled up in his golden eyes as he walked closer. He stood with his head low, moving past the mares to stand as a tower of protection and might over his girl. He watched her for moments, eyes searching for signs of life on her broken body. At a very visible breath, and the fluttering of her eyelids, Archibald finally came unglued. A nasty, choking sob racked his body and he seemed to breath. His face cracked into a broken smile, and he let out a laugh--a laugh mixed with his uncomfortable feelings of sorrow and sadness but also his overwhelming relief. His daughter, his princess, as alive. Archibald's tears ran down his cheeks, but none new were formed. Crumbling down to his knees, the massive stallion touched his nose--puffing with shaky breath--to his daughter's left knee. "Macaria, my strong girl. Daddy's here," He hummed gently to her, his mind only looking for her comfort and safety.
Archibald gently touched his grey daughter, painted so much like his fallen Shadowmere, for several minutes. His experienced eyes moved over her body to assess her damage, ears flicking back and forth as he thought. Finally, his golden eyes looked up towards the Throat mares, his resolve returned in their depths. His face was hard, his voice authoritative. "Ampere," Archibald rose to his hooves, finally feeling the exhaustion in his oak-like limbs that trembled slightly. "I appreciate your courage and strength." He blinked, eyes moving down to his daughter's body once more before returning to the pegasus. "Can she drink? You were wise on the Island, and I was blinded by my selfishness and inexperience. Alysanne is not ready to give milk to my daughter. I ask, humbly, that she is able to stay in the Throat with you for some time. My sons, I am sure they would like to stay with her. I would also like to be granted the ability to come visit her as I see fit. I have duties in the Edge I must attend to, but Macaria will always be on the forefront of my heart."
Archibald turned his head towards the other mare--a healer, he assumed--and finally recognition moved within the depths of his memory. This girl was born in the Foothills, her mother a captive of Knox. He did not wish to dig up old bones, and he had never held ill-will towards her or her mother, despite the affiliation with the Assassins. "Thank you, as well."
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me