It was strange having the mare so close, despite their being strangers. Maybe acquaintance was a better term. He knew her name, that she wasn't talented at choosing places to bathe, and that she was all right with being touched. To an extent. If you were to just walk by and see them embraced ever so uncomfortably, then it would be perplexing unless you knew the whole story. 'Just trying to keep her warm,' Note reminded himself as his dark lips slid down the mare's neck so he could press his own nape against her. So very, very cold.
A smug smile slipped onto his muzzle as the mare slipped through his wingtips, taken aback by his comment about the Throat's pond. In the dark, Note's faded coat blended well, leaving his bright green eyes to pierce the mare's features with an eerie coldness.
”I have yet to find my way to the Throat since the Caves.” Her voice was sharp, but the explanation was enough for Note. In a twisted way, he liked Morana. She reminded him of, well, himself.
”I’m sure you’re right though, I’ll be sure to think of you when I find it.”
Note's eyes widened in the dull light, lips mirroring her seductive grin. In one swift motion, he stepped forward and put his muzzle up to the mare's sorrel ear. "Why imagine me then when I'm here now?" The stallion asked in an alluring whisper, pulling away as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He let his eyes remain on Morana, lopsided, complacent grin aimed at the two-toned mare.
Note was strangely satisfied when she stepped closer. He slid a wing over her back once more, the single appendage just large enough to cover her. Hooray for unnecessarily large wings.
”I thought the heat of the Desert would suit me, rather excited to venture there. But the Worlds Edge? Why ever did you leave your home?”
Note's grin faltered, despite the innocence of the question paired with the sheepish smile Morana offered. He turned his head towards the ocean, eyes becoming uncharacteristically dull, features overall lifeless. He didn't want to leave the Throat, but had little choice.
"I loved the Throat, the God of the Sun. I was happy there. But I made a mistake. I had a mate, she was unable to love me for long, then her new fuckdoll kicked me out," Note began, rage leaking into his words. They were not loud, they were soft, but brimmed with a yearn for vengeance. Another outlandish aspect of the night.
His wing slid from the mare's back, his body turning to walk away. But then he turned around. Note took lengthy strides as he paced, fire licking off his wings. First the flames came slowly at his wingtips, but in barely any time at all, they engulfed the appendages.
'Note, please, calm down,' Sabel begged as she felt the mix of emotions within her bonded. She had never seen fire, Note's was fake, so it didn't bother her. It felt tingly to the touch, but didn't burn. Her claws dug into the stallion's thick skin, shaking as much of it as she could, drawing blood, even. Anything to snap him out of this state. She had been through it before, and it was anything but pleasurable. 'Please...'
But the stallion disregarded her pleas.
He paused, turning to Morana, body looking more orange than bay in the light of his flames.. "He gave me a chance, you know. He offered to fight me for her. Fight me for her. As if she was some kind of property!" Note's words escalated in volume, now filled with disgust as lightning began to crack in the sky, even though no clouds were in sight. "Everything about that challenge was despicable. I don't fight for women that way. They should choose their own path in love, yes?" Note asked expectantly, but didn't wait for any answer.
"I just - I wasn't about to fight for someone who didn't love me anymore. We would end up in a monotonous relationship full of false emotion," the bay shook his head, ruffling his flaming feathers.
Lightning pierced the ground by his hooves, almost striking himself. It was then that Note realized the only enemy in this scenario was himself. Not Gaucho, Sohalia, nor their vile, scandalous spawn. He was the only one still holding onto the events.
Note truly was more complex than he thought he was. He locked up his emotions deep inside until they spilled. This was their spilling. Poor, poor Morana had to witness it.
He barely flinched when the lightning struck, burning the sand and sending Sabel to launch herself into his dark mane for cover. He closed his eyes, regret about the last few moments washing over him. Drowning him, even. The fire died, the lightning stopped, and Note opened his eyes. The only way to describe him in that moment was pitiful, eyes wide and sorrowful as they looked back to Morana.
"I'm sorry," was all he said, the words barely a whisper as he looked down at his sparkling silver hooves that liked to catch the moonlight. He looked like the kid who had gotten caught stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar.

--

@[Morana]