tembovu

Mauja’s pale, speckled breast followed his horn for a breath as he tried to draw away— a sharp, cold breath stung his nostrils as horror, with serrated shadows, ripped out the bottom of his barrel. Would the Frozen Light impale himself on his massive horn in a frenzied crusade of his immortality?

But that moment of dread (of the world shrinking to the point of his horn) lived only for half a breath. The white chest flesh, his thick horn withdrew, blessed distance growing between the two baptized by blood. The crimson droplet clung to the tip, hesitating at the sharp point, a the precipice of this moment—

—and then it slid down the loosely spiraled spear of the King as navy eyes (still wide as relief replaced agony) rose to the silent look of betrayal on the Frozen’s face.

Dark and clamorous, his anger arose, unbidden, at the hurt look he received in answer to his question. No explanation. No reason. Only fleeing, white haunches. And loss— a loss (a pain) he felt acutely in his chest. It only fed the flames of anger.

To give no answer, to run away with a treacherous look… After asking for death (be it a temporary one)? The heat spread, licking around the icy block that had solidified in his chest after burning the man in the forest.

But who was that man? Was it the same man he had held (comforted) on the god’s black rock? Had supported on the daughter’s blood drenched sands in the Isles? Followed through the Moon blessed mists of his ascendancy? Was that the man that left him, silently, brokenly, after asking for a murder?

Lips pressed together, eyes lined with these unsettled and angering thoughts. But his ears remain forward, perked and straining to hear the spotted stallion’s departure escape. A limb lifted of it’s own volition, preparing to follow (to chase?) after that bleeding chest.

But his hoof fell with a thud back to the earth as Myrrine’s own, betrayed and confused eyes bored into his face before she, herself, chased after the illusory immortal. The deceptive, the deceitful— for had Mauja just used him? Just taken a trust so deep (had he made it so deep?) and turned it on him?

For, if he had just given a man life, why was it he who felt angered and shamed?

Ears pin flush with his head as he tore his gaze away from the dark trees that had swallowed Mauja. He began to move away, roughly shaking his head as the drop of blood tickled the skin at the the base of his horn, only to be halted by an approaching Naerys.

the elephant king