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GULL
but in the end I hope you only turn out better than me
I hope you know I love you young'n, like father, like son
“He’s okay,” she promises, and a soft huff parts your lips as you release the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. He was alive. But this situation has its own complications, beginning with the fact that you have no idea how to be a father. Unsure, you falter, not knowing how to respond. You’re numb as she suggests that you move away from the heat, only feeling a dull sense of panic as she retreats into the cave to retrieve him. Silently, you watch her leave, and for a moment you wonder if you should just bail now, fly away without ever having to face the reality that the two of you have created. Perhaps it is low, slimy in the worst way even, but maybe you’d just be saving you all the trouble. The kid didn’t need a dad, did he? You’d done all right without one. What did Muriel even want from you? You were doomed to disappoint her either way: if you left, you’d break her heart now, and if you stayed, you’d break it in the five minutes it would take her to discover that you couldn’t do this. Head hung low, you turn to go, facing out towards the fiery pit. Would she hate you for leaving? Or in time, could she forgive you for the choice you are making? You hope she can.
But then there are two sets of hooves echoing their way down the corridor around the corner, Muriel’s steady gait and the faint, skittering tapping of a foal’s footsteps. Startled, you look back just as they round the corner, and you’re too late. Because there she is with your son. In that moment, you cannot take your eyes off of her—if you thought she’d been radiant before, now she is transformed. Seeing the pair of them side by side, watching her watch him, her great love for him so obvious that it is nearly tangible…they look so natural together, you think. Mother and son. And in that moment, you catch a glimpse of your own mother in Muriel’s perfect love, and your heart simultaneously fills and breaks as you realize that what you want, you will never have. You know there can be no place for you here in this bond between a mare and her child. There never will be. Throat tight, you duck your head, hiding the bundle of white feathers that is tied into the base of your mane.
Muriel draws ever closer, but now that they are just out of reach, your attention has shifted to the boy. Slowly, you turn to get a good look at him: he’s russet, the deepest of reds, with eyes just darker than your own. You can’t help but smile as you notice the four wings—a gift from Muriel, no doubt. And he looks strong, healthy. Maybe you can’t be around for this kid like Muriel wants you to be, but you find a bittersweet joy that he has a fighting chance in this world. You see that though the boy has remained close to his mother, he is openly returning your gaze. Bold, you like that. Muriel had done well.
It is she who finally breaks the silence, her soft introduction magnified by the cavern: "Gull, this is Brigand. Sweetheart...this is your father."
“…a f-father?” comes the voice, boyish and incredulous. You snort awkwardly, realizing that the question in your head sounds much the same. You too, kid, you too. “In the flesh,” you respond, trying much too hard to keep your tone light. But the kid cuts right to the chase. "Why weren't you there?" he demands. "Why weren't you there when I came to the sun?"
Wow, all right then. “Um—“ you sputter, caught off guard. “Well…” Pleadingly, you look over at Muriel for help. What are you supposed to say? That you hadn’t known that his mother had been alive until an hour ago, much less your child? Somehow you didn’t think that would sit well with her. “I’ve been away for a long time,” you finally settle for, keeping your answer as vague as possible. “But I’m here now...I'm here now.”
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