She didn't say no, didn't refuse. So he continued, savagely. The beast thrives here, skin on skin, heat building between them. If he were human, his lips would be on hers, passionate and hungry, throwing emotion into it, but he's not human. With horses there is no medium, it's either fucking or not fucking. When she does this little moan thing, he takes it as a yes and moves to get on top of her. A bit clumsy, but how can a 1000lb animal have an easy time getting on an equal counterpart? It's clear, though, that he knows what he's doing, that he knows his way around, as if he's been in this spot so many times it doesn't faze him, but it certainly effects him in various ways.

Most of his life, Caleb has felt alone, even in the company of others. It's as if he's stuck on a desolate island afraid he'll be stuck for minutes that turn to hours, then months, and after so much time everyone will forget him, forget Caleb, the one lost to the loneliness of a mental island, stuck with pages of memories he can't burn because that would mean its over for good. The loneliness consumes his mind and leaves him feeling translucent, invisible. Still, despite this, it's hard to accept company, invite the warmth in. It's hard to be around others, but not all there, lost in memories that can't be relived. Caleb is no longer on good nor bad terms with anyone, simply nothing, someone to know but not to think about. He's like a freckle on your skin, you know it's there, but you don't pay much attention to it, you're used to it. It's there, but you don't give it a second thought, you don't try to change it. Caleb knows no one that understands his silence, his lack of emotions, his fear of being forgotten. It feels right to be with Enna, on top of her, in her, but it seems so wrong at the same time. He wants to be touched without contact, wants to be held by eyes, carried with words, but that's not happening so the substitute is contact, intimate contact. Through the haze of feelings that rummage his brain all that comes from it is this short-lived contact. Everyone has a chapter they don't read outloud. This is Caleb's.

She didn't actually think they were going to last forever, did she?

Then it was over, he was gone, she was fucked, his weight no longer lingering on or near her. No longer anywhere- vanished. He had left, his hound also. Even their hoofprints have already been covered with snow. All that is left to be deduced is that he ran. He ran because he's a fool, because he doesn't like the feeling of having been with someone intimately then lingering around hoping for more, but also hoping for less. The contact didn't fulfill the loneliness, so he continues. Would it be rude to simply say that...

the spark they had vanished when he dismounted?