The pale golden splendor that is her velveteen muzzle extended towards his own, and he finds himself mirroring her actions. His own, broad and black maw reached up, thick crest flexing to hold his heavy head and horn in their dropped and stretched position. She took a step closer, further filling his nostrils and sight with glimmering, light gold backlit by the sun’s reflection on the waves. A smile once again graces her face— and it would be foolish for any man to deny the beauty the gods have bequeathed her. This was simple, easy, for the stallion— so much simpler and easier than what had pushed him to the shore. Perhaps it was the sea or the gold of her coat that had him so relaxed, so willing to ease into— into whatever was happening with Raeden.

Perked ears greedily funnel her honeyed words, and thick lips part to tell her that he was not at all too busy to help her, in any way she required. He had all the time in the world for this mare of honey scent and silver eyes, ““I would be happy to help, Raed—” The deep husk of his words were abruptly cut off by a voice so achingly familiar, “I would be careful of handsome stallions giving advice. It might result in something unlucky.”

And suddenly he was a colt caught grazing sweet succulents instead of the proteinaceous rye-grass. Cream ears tilted backwards, mind quickly upheaving from its Raeden-induced, serene state. The sharpness of the words, the layers of meanings beneath them— had he been unlucky for her? Had she for him? “Handsome.” His battered ego picked out the word; she still thought him handsome? Was she as jealous as Raedan called her out to be? Something unnamed swelled in his chest.

He had carefully kept his gaze on the pale golden beauty before him, even as Raeden rose her opal-crowned skull and looked away from him, towards Rexanna. He then cast his own blue eyes down, away from his gilded princess, as his newly acquainted golden woman addressed her. Saccharine sweetness dripped from her lips as a gust of wind sent her thick, ivory locks swirling and knotting over his tan hide. The welcome, silken caresses further incriminating him— but for what? Their last encounter had felt so… final. Where was this guilt coming from?

On this realization, he raised his head with a mildly clenched jaw as Raeden introduced herself to Rexanna. Two beautiful, golden mares with two R-names. His lips pursed in deranged, hopeless amusement as his gaze lifted. Up, up, turning, swiveling towards the woman of ruin—

The glow from the Giving Tree had grown on her, extending beyond her face and reaching over her entire, pregnant body. Pregnant. Pregnant.

Eyes widen as they lock onto Rexanna’s swollen barrel. He does not realize that he takes a step towards her. There is a shadow of violence in the step, as every ounce of masculine muscle, hardened by Kingly spars and gods’ wars, leapt to rigidity beneath his scarred hide. Unblinking cobalt eyes— so often darkened and hardened by anger— are neither flinty nor shadowed.

They are burning.

Pits of blue fires spat tongues of hot flames, an Elephant of molten magma conglomerating in his chest. He does not tame this beast as it grows, feeding on the rage— the betrayal— that cuts through him so ruthlessly. Muscles ticked beneath the skin of his cheek, jaws clenched so tightly one can ear the creak of enamel. Nostrils are flared— not in seeking her scent (for hers is now the scent of another’s loins). They are flared in fuming breaths that feed the molten elephant-beast aching to peel from his skin.

His enraged silence stretches, inflamed mind linking disjointed thoughts. It was obvious this could not be his child— he had not performed last time— she had not been pregnant at the tree— had she? — “even with expecting”, the bang of fireworks had interrupted— not expecting more work from being promoted— expecting a child?!— her radiance the she approached him had been from more than just her beauty… A long and loud breath left him as all the pieces fell into place, completing this revolting puzzle.

He finally blinks, breaking his glare at her pregnant sides and shifting his betrayed irate gaze on Rexanna’s painted face. “Am I to congratulate Caleb?” His words hovered on the dangerous precipice of sarcasm and anger, “Or another, lucky stallion?”

He could not yet feel the pain that he knew pooled beneath the heat of his rage. Once this fury had burnt itself out, he knew the cold torment awaited him. But not yet; now was a time for burning eyes and scorched souls.

His demon stretched its greedy jaws wide, urging the Elephant to open his mouth again— to say something more damaging, more hurtful. It was only fair, right Elephant? She hurt you so deeply, is it not rightful to reciprocate? The beast glimmered from beneath the flames in his eyes. ““As I was saying, Raeden, I have all the time to help a lovely mare find where she belongs. I could show you the Edge?” Boring gaze leaves Rexanna, finding Raeden’s as he offered something kind to Hotaru’s sister— something he had not offered Rexanna. Yes, he had asked her to come live with him in the Edge (and how different their lives would be if she had agreed), but never had he offered as a guide. His demon shivered in glee while his magma-beast was mollified for the moment, no longer pushing to erupt from his hide.