He feels the movement of her head against his shoulder before his ears catch her words, his ribcage expanding as he slowly releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He doesn’t try to hold the mare’s gaze as her eyes fall, and assuming that she will continue, he doesn’t press her for more. This is not a topic he particularly enjoys himself—preferring to dwell on more wondrous and pleasing things—but he finds himself fixated on that bastard, that monster who had dared touch her and leave her to the wolves. The demand for vengeance fires within his veins, igniting the most primal call for blood, for justice.
 
One of his rimmed ears twitching when Enna speaks again, Rohan lowers his eyes from where they had wandered, his features taking a moment to soften from their fierce lines. He tsks her gruffly, playfully, shaking his head as his unruly forelock falls to entwine in the lower part of his antlers. “Oh I don’t know about that, sweetheart—you’d be surprised how many rascals will come scurrying after a beauty like you,” his brown lips twist into a crooked grin as he chuckles deeply, but it isn’t long before he quiets, realizing how unsettling his jest might actually be. How unsettling—how infuriating—it is to think of that coward coming to track her down.
 
But he mustn’t linger on that. Shifting his weight, his thick neck arches as his muzzle is tucked in closer to his chest, his eyes leaving hers. “Alright then,” it is murmured roughly to her half-hearted assurances, only half satisfied that the Basin’s defenses are so impenetrable (given his personal doubts for the empire itself), but he doesn’t press the issue. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to admit—to anyone, even to himself (especially to himself)—how much the thought actually bothers him. How much he might actually care. The idea of it all is just…unsettling for him.
 
“Mm?” He hums when he hears his name, distracted and overlooking the tenderness in her voice (perhaps fortunately so, for now, as bitter and reluctant as his spirit is), and waiting for her to continue in her short pause, he presses his lips gently into the folds of her hair. With her question comes a huff of laughter as his warm breath seeps to her skin, humming amusedly as he draws back. “Throwing me a double-edged sword, are you?” One side of his brow rises in tease, though there is a seriousness beneath his humor (sensing her own gravity well enough—this is no game, not for her).
 
He falls silent for a long moment—longer than he would have liked—pondering, hesitating, wrestling. He feels pinned, interrogated, even if her intentions had been nothing but out of desperation. Does she expect a promise, a commitment? He only know himself, his past, and struggles with it all, knowing his flighty nature (and not intending to change). Finally, his broad voice expands across the waters. “I suppose it depends on your definition of abandonment,” Rohan attempts at a playful smirk, but soon continues more seriously, “I would never take you—against your will—” He pauses again, the thought bringing new fire to his anger, and he has to clench his jaw against the wrath that simmers beneath his skin. Take her—have her—yes, without a doubt.
 
But he is no coward.
 
“I am a wanderer by nature, I suppose. I’ve pledged myself to a herd, but my heart’s wanderlust has proved far more of a temptress than I had thought,” he huffs a breath of dry laughter, his gaze wandering through the shadowy woods around them, “The Edge will be good for me though, I suppose.” He purses his lips before returning his attention to the little mare, only realizing then that he has been avoiding the core of her question, even if he had subconsciously been doing so. “But…” he begins, swallowing. He doesn’t handle commitment well—that’s a given—but he is not a monster. “No,” he smiles again, crooked as it pulls across his brown lips, green eyes shining as he looks down to her, “I don’t think I could abandon you.”


“Speech.”

Lend me your hand and we’ll conquer them all,

but lend me your heart and I’ll just let you fall.

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see,

but your soul you must keep,

t o t a l l y   f r e e.