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Hector could not have known her sight this time had failed. He was bewildered by her frailty there, lingering by the border; concerned and confused. It was a fine thing that her voice had returned, because being one of few words, the time they had spent together during her muteness had been a struggle. The sun beat down impressively upon them, and the tawny stallion could see clearly that her time away seemed to have had an influence over her ability to manage the climate of the desert. Rasta swayed and staggered clumsily, perhaps the affects of heat stroke causing some drunkenness. He was so glad to have found her, unsure how much longer her petite, pale frame would cope there by the borderline.
She shuffled and rocked unsteadily and he could see the quiver of her tired legs as they pulled her slightly closer. Hector had seen the other stallion she seemed so well bonded too, and refrained thus, from the kind of intimacy he might otherwise have shown- the gentleness and care between family. He wondered too where she had been for so long, and if the other had been at her side. How could he have let her grow so weak? Unwilling to drive any sort of angst between them, he allowed her the opportunity to take back her space, stretching his wing still further should she prefer actually not to stay beside him so tightly. She seemed so unstable though, and it took all his strength not to fold carefully his wing around her as her limbs again buckled, sending the little mare toppling into his flank.
"Yes." He answered her unsettlingly fractured question promptly. Craning his neck around so that he could look upon her drawn face carefully as she giggled timidly, the low rumble of his baritone voice remarked,
"You are sick, exhausted..." He was troubled by her apparent need to cover whatever really was wrong. He had paused to allow her time to balance her wobbly legs again, but realised that the sooner she was beneath the lush mimosas of the oasis, the more comfortable she would be. Brazenly then, going quite against his better judgement, the great stallion lowered slowly and vigilantly his enormous wing, enclosing her and drawing her close protectively against his sweaty, steamy body.
Before he started forward again, he lowered his glossy rust eye to her level.
"You will fare better if I act as your crutch, Rasta. I will find our Sun Physician, so that you might be checked over properly." She had no choice... He led off then, setting a thoughtful pace in the direction of rippling apparition of the stark emerald paradise.
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