For a moment Gaucho simply enjoyed the feeling of his child pressed against him. He thought, wishfully perhaps, that she would cry away whatever it was that brought her to him in this state, and simply return to being her mischevious self. Perhaps they could even take that walk back to the Oasis that he wanted to suggest earlier. Just as his mouth might have opened to suggest this, Tae pulled away from him, anger showing through her red rimmed eyes.

Hash long ki mae rekke fish hatif ki yol?

Gaucho’s ears flattened against his skull, and for a moment the instinct to lash out at her was overwhelming. But in this instance, physical force - Gaucho’s forte - would not serve him well. Nervously, Vorsa tittered on the ground, hopping closer to Tae’s hooves as if meaning to protect her from the wrath she could feel bubbling inside of her bonded. But the dun did not strike, instead, he met Tae’s accusing gaze with one of patience and paternal condensation. You don’t understand, because you’re a child, that gaze seemed to say. But also, I love you.

”Vo neak.” He admitted, though he did not sound guilty. Yes, he had taken Sohalia into his bed only weeks after Ampere’s disappearance. But Sohalia was not a new lover to him, nor was she even a new khaleesi on the sands. She was his first love, and in Ampere’s absence, she had been there.

What of it?

There was not a word in their dialect that meant exclusive or monogamous, and so Gaucho merely shrugged off that part of Tae’s insinuation. That was alright he thought, after all, that wasn’t the part that had upset her.

”Ampere avvos affazolat.” He repeated, lowering his bone-peirced muzzle closer to Tae’s. She could be angry with him all she wanted, but as far as his customs and culture dictated, he had done no wrong. He and Ampere had never vowed to be exclusive, and despite the fact that Gaucho would certainly have some choice words should he have ever found out about she and Mesec, he hadn’t, and so for the moment his mind continued to hypocritically conclude that theirs was an open relationship.

Sohalia jadat ata,” He continued, his voice now decidedly softer, ”vosma Gaucho zin athfiezar Ampere disse ven sekke” Despite how sappy the words themselves were, Gaucho said them with confidence and an unabashed truthfulness. He couldn’t explain to his child how his love for the mares differed, and how they held complimentary - not competing - places inside of his heart. Perhaps one day she would understand, but today, he could already tell, was not that day.

”Yer hash khezhat, vo athostar at Gaucho.” He said after a moment. His flaming wings fanned from his sides, creating a fire cave of feathers and muscle. Jadat.”