Note & Sabel

@[Cheveyo]

--

'What. Is. Happening.'
The thought echoed through Sabel's head as she felt the churning emotions boiling inside of Note, swelling and receding with every word Cheveyo spoke. She had been with the stallion for a year, but she had never known him to feel anything like this. Nothing came close to comparing to this.
The lynx had been with the stallion through the birth of his own daughter, yet the emotions he got from that were nothing like this. For a moment, Sabel considered the possibility of love. Maybe it was love. Unfortunately, she wasn't well acquainted with that particular subject. Even her own mother hadn't loved her. The cat had stalked off, leaving Sabel to die in the midst of Frostfall.
The cat wasn't sure she even loved Note. The relationship she shared with the stallion was based more upon dependency than love. But she had felt every emotion Note had ever felt. She could name off each one, but none of seemed to be on the basis of love. Perhaps that would change. This could be love. If not, this was surely the closest thing the cat would be able to compare to love; being the primal creature she was.
But then Sabel felt a pain from her bonded. This one she knew all too well. It was pain, sadness - anguish at most.
Note lifted his wings, looking at his side as Cheveyo spoke of Kwahu. His sharp green eyes found his scar, still gnarled and horrendous as it had always been. He knew Cheveyo was deeply saddened by the red hand that marked her side; he almost felt a similar way about his scar. Not quite. The torment he felt from the scar was brought on by a death as well, although it was not from someone he loved, but from someone he hated. It was weighed heavy with guilt and sadness all the same, though the emotions were incredibly selfish. Note did not feel sorry for the stallion he had so ruthlessly murdered, but just regretted the way he dealt with the situation.
As Cheveyo continued to talk, Note began to feel guilty for asking a question that treaded such thin ground, but he did not regret it. In a way, it helped him understand Cheveyo a step further. He understood the way she felt. This strengthens friendships, right? Anything to understand the other being helps the friendship, yes? Well, it was the best tactic Note could think of. Therefor he would be using it.
The stallion turned his head back to the mare, locking eyes with her before moving his muzzle to her shoulder, to the red hand print. His body ignited at the touch, feeling almost numb with the sizzling sensation. He brushed his lips over the marking, an overwhelming sense of grief passing through his body when he realized what he was doing. This mark was just too special for someone such as himself to be fiddling with so intimately. The stallion moved his touch to the mare's neck, burying his muzzle in her soft, flaxen locks, his sharp green gaze finding hers once more. It was his turn to be apologetic.
"I'm so sorry..." Note's voice was almost a whisper. His lips were tingling, as was the rest of his body that was touching Cheveyo's, though this spark he craved for and now felt thanks to the painted mare he had come to admire so much didn't help the grief he felt for her. He knew how it was to lose a loved one. They were hard to go through, but with time and other friendships, losses are possible to get over. Though they are not forgettable.