The sound of the golden’s voice, thick and heavy, demanding, wrought with emotion, made the girl jump uneasily, shifting on her hooves, until she had almost forgotten how excited she was about giving him the rock. Her ears laid half-back and her skin began to twitch. She was growing uneasy, unsteady, trying to figure out what she was doing, how she was supposed to react to this sudden change in his demeanor. Had she upset him somehow by giving him a gift? Above, Khan circled restlessly as well, watching the golden with narrowed eyes. He was used to swinging, fleeting emotions, having been bonded to Kahlua, but he was not so used to them from other horses. Most were so steady. What was wrong with this one?

Even so, she managed to calm herself slightly during the pause, and then stop her motion altogether when the golden continued on. Always a thief? The words were a shock, to say the least. Trying to process what was going on, trying to make sense of what had happened and what these new words were that were coming from his mouth… He had lied to her? Her blue eyes began to moisten, as they always did when she grew emotional. She had trusted him infinitely, thought of him as a friend and a confidant, but he had lied to her. “What?” she managed to choke out barely, softly, just a whisper on the wind. In some ways she was glad when he stepped back. At the same time, though, she was not. She wanted to run towards him, to kick him in the shin, to yell at him and make him take it back. He was lying now, not then. He had not always been a thief. This was a game of his, it had to be… she narrowed her eyes.

Even so, there was no denying the seriousness of his tone. “You’re not my enemy,” she whispered again, trying to make some sense of this. Even if he had been an enemy, was he still so? He had come here with a gift for her, the wolf coat that lay heavy over her back, heavier with each second, the scent of thranduil on the thing like a mocking reminder that he was there… always there. “I forgive you.” Her response to his apology was weak, if heartfelt, her mind distant as she tried to understand what she was feeling about all of this. And though she really did want to know the answer to her question, to understand what had been wrong with him and to try and make things right between them, she could no longer stand here. She needed… what? Fresh air? She was in the woods.

She didn’t understand that she was feeling the need for space, for distance, for separation. Her priority was always to go to people when she was hurt, but Thranduil was the one hurting her now, and she needed to separate herself from him, not go to him. It was like Kaj, whom she had looked to for support, and been forced to separate from. Two friends, too soon. This pregnancy was ruining everything, this land, this Helovia, this position as queen, this responsibility. Her mind ran too fast with too many thoughts, and she began to shift again, looking up to Khan, trying to find some comfort in his flight, or the sky, or the birds. “I do…” she began, her eyes finally trailing back to Thranduil. “But I think… I think I need to be alone… to process… but I forgive you. And I will find you again…” Broken words, but a heartfelt promise, fell from her lips, and she began to step back.

“I’m sorry,” she said more insistently, as though this were her fault and not his. She had failed him somehow, perhaps… But whatever it was that she was thinking, whatever it was that she didn’t understand, it would have to wait for him to know. She backed a few more steps, and then turned to waddle back into the forest, presuming that he would go on his own time. She didn’t care if he came into the forest, really… would he really hurt her? She wanted to scream, there was so much to think about, to know, that she could not know, and too many hormones in her body to make sense of any of this. Perhaps some communion with the waves on the North end of the land would help… nothing else seemed to be.