At times, he hates her. Despises her. Absolutely loathes her very existence. He wants to bash his skull into a rock until her memory leaves him and he is free; that the sound of her name doesn’t stab a new thorn in his heart. That he isn’t looking over his shoulder because somehow he thinks he has seen a flash of gold in the edge of his vision. He hates her for what she’s done to him, and what he has become because of her. She had been childish and cruel when he had tried to explain to her their relationship in the Grove. Had been blind to how much it had hurt him, too. At first it had merely ripped his heart into ribbons he doubted could ever be sewn together again. Afterwards he had discovered she was carrying his child, and had finally had to run out the anxiety that had built up inside his soul. It had left him drenched in sweat and trembling in the shock of frigidity the Steppe brought, clinging to Faelene like a helpless colt. However once she had helped him regain his bearings, he had realized that he had never treated Phaedra badly in the Grove. He had been absolutely devastated, and she’d left him with a single word. The anger was at constant battle with the love he still harbored for her, and which he suspected he always would. Children had been his biggest desire since his youth, and he had never thought he’d be able to have them. Not once did Tolio regret how he was, being gay, but it had nearly crushed him to realize he would never hear ‘daddy’ come from the innocent maw of a child. Phaedra had given that to him, and in her belly rested a life he helped create. Was it the love of his child he felt that fought that anger and hatred towards the flirty fae? Or was it a combination of his love for the both of them?

Deep sigh shook slim chest cavity. What was he doing here, lingering outside the place she called home? Oh yes, that’s right. Being an absolute idiot. He needed to see Phaedra again. For once in their miserable relationship- whatever it was- they needed to see eye to eye and talk like the adults they were. Tolio may be emotional, but he was still a stallion. He would face this problem, even if that problem was a woman. Normally he would never have sought her out, far too proud to do so. Image of his unborn child drove him forth from the safety of the Basin. Crown held high, silver blue eyes cold and aloof. There could be no more of this, no more tears and hurting. Tolio was sick of being the emotional gay boy, and he had shoved away his self-proclaimed bunny side to let the serious side appear. Phaedra had never dealt with this side of him, not necessarily. Tolio refused to bring forth a child into the world where its parents were fighting and separated constantly. Bloody brute would also not allow her to stop him from seeing his child. They needed to talk through this, make up a system. Do something. Alabaster hooves drove into the ground sharply to stop him and lurch him out of his thoughts. There would be no more movement, he would not break the boundaries of the woods. That was her home, her safety net, just as the Basin was his. He would not tear through those bonds. White face tilted skyward, singing out with every inkling of power in his lungs. Bugling out for her, nearly demanding her presence. It was urgent, and if she did not appear he would drag her out of those woods himself.

His heart had taken on far too much damage, as he suspected hers had as well, and he would not allow himself to give her another opening through his emotions.