the happy ending depends, of course...

He meandered along the cliffs, weaving in and out of the trees that flirted with the crumbling limestone edges. Heavy, ivory hooves had come to know the feel of which ground to trust and which ground would tremble and fall under his immense weight. So it was a nearly mindless, yet harrowing, endeavor to walk over the sea.

Thoughts filled with a multitude of things, mainly of his recent encounter with the Hidden Fall’s spy— should he go visit the Falls? He had no bargaining chips for an alliance, and there was no hostility between the herds… So was an outright alliance necessary, just yet? And what of the Basin. Mauja’s negotiation with the Reaper had fallen flat. And the Elephant had no love for the mountain-bound herd…

His distracted eyes alighted on the slender, athletic body of Elsa, his Queen of ice. Her glistening blue-white wings were a welcome sight to interrupt his heavy thoughts. Even the impish Edgar was a refreshing relief. A grin crossed his black and ivory face as he came up alongside the wintry woman. “My lovely Queen, will you grace me with your presence?” The humor rumbled in his deep voice as he halted his towering form beside her sleek one.

But his grin faded as his dark blue gaze took in the drawn expression on the pale face. Her eyes, one milky and scarred, were haunted, despite their sapphire beauty. His gaze followed her own, to the rocky and frothy sea below. Vaguely, he was surprised that the sun was setting— where had the day gone? Though more important matters loomed in his mind: namely, the look on the striking woman’s face and the suspicious stare she gave the sheer drop beneath them.

“Elsa?” His voice was lower, quieter now, dark brows creased with concern, “How are you?” He did not ask if she was okay— because how could one be after losing her children? He remembered her gaunt appearance in the Edge when he and Erthe had greeted her. Although it would not be ‘okay,’ there could be parts that were good. And he could only hope that the good parts were starting to outnumber the bad. That’s really all one can hope for in this madness we call life.

...on when you end your story.

the happy ending depends, of course...

He grinned briefly at Edgar’s exuberant greeting, dipping his massive horn in a silent ‘hello’ to the mischievous zephyr. Though he returned his gaze to Elsa as she spoke, then watched the stone she kicked down the cliff, following its disastrous path with his navy eyes. He quietly studied its final resting place for a few moments, the last of the ripples and splashes quickly swallowed by the ravenous sea.

Then, riveting his attention back to the snow touched mare, his low voice rolls firmly, but softly, “It’s not just a jump that I’m worried about.” Indeed, her ‘jumping’ could be saved by the loft of her wings. But would she use them? And there were destructive ways to agonize oneself that did not include taking one’s life. Dark blue eyes narrow slightly as he studies her, the markings on his face creasing with the returning concern at her dull words.

But then she faced him, dead truths falling flatly from parted pink lips. Despite her toneless voice, the bluntness with which she spoke seemed to push him away. Away from her past, her conversation, her being. But then the words she spoke finally sank in— she found her twins?! His ears perk forward, surprise widening his eyes and raising his brows. He was not to be put off of the topic by questions after Erthe or toneless voices.

“If you looked for, found, and reached out to them, then you're more of a mother than you know,” his words rumbled in a combination of observation, gentle rebuke, and approval, “You cannot go back and change the past, and there’s nothing to be made for dwelling over the failures in it. But you can create a future.” He found himself telling her the doctrine he was trying to adhere too. Easier said than done, apparently.

“But I am glad to hear Auriel has joined us, and you, in the Edge,” his voice grew lighter, happier as a smile once again grew on his muzzle. “And Erthe is fine, she’s a remarkable little filly,” one could not mistake the pride in his voice over the pearly hybrid yearling.

He watched for her sapphire gaze, and found it only once before it skittered away from him in either nervousness or uneasiness. Ears swiveled sideways as his own indecision hovered over him, before he swept it aside and took his questions to the air, “Elsa, forgive the probing question, but what of your children’s father?” He knew how personal and deep he might be delving, but she was his Queen. Surely he should know at least something of her history in Helovia. Was she entitled to asking him such questions?

Careful, Elephant. Turnabout’s fair play.

...on when you end your story.

the happy ending depends, of course...

Her reaction to his gently asked, but still deeply probing question, was plainly visible. The soft snow of her coat turned to glaciers as her muscles grew rigid, Edgar standing equally rigid upon her rump glowering at the King. Though he stayed silent, waiting for her to formulate a response in those clenched teeth.

He regained her gaze, now an arctic blue boring into his placid, navy pools. Her wings ruffled as biting and bitter words tore at him. His ears twitched at the venom in her voice, but only when she revealed the betrayal of her children’s father did the calm waver on his marked face. Brows knitted in subdued concern, finally beginning to understand beyond the mother that lost her children. A ripple passed through his azure, serene pools.

Instinctively, at her hollow and grating laugh, he took a half-step towards her. Though he wasn't certain that this was the wisest of choicest, given the poisonous rage emanating from the Icebound. “Sometimes I wished I wasn’t so set on loving one. If only I could be as loose as everyone else…” She voiced the same sentiment that he, himself, had felt shortly after arriving to Helovia. He had acted on such urges, only to feel wrong, confused, and hurting those he cared for. A soft sigh escaped his flaring nostrils, “If only we could,” the quiet, sadly honest words were out of his pale muzzle before he could censor them.

But she continued, fully answering his question with cracking words and downward glances. This was so similar, yet so different, than Mauja’s revelation on the gods’ black rock. Except, where his speckled friend was lost in a sea of loss, Elsa was hatefully battling winds of despair. Trying, and failing, to shed the pain, she attempted a nonchalant question towards him. Quietly he studied her face, the sadness and internal hatred that raged beneath beautifully sapphire eyes. But sapphires were hard and sharp stones.

He wanted to open his muzzle and give an apology— for what, though? That was useless and pointless, he could not apologize on behalf of this ‘addict’ that had held and pummeled her heart. And it wasn't an apology her heart needed— it was reparation. There were few that could provide the mare this… perhaps her children? Or only the child that chose to join her in the Edge. Auriel, was it? He would have to seek out this equine, to ensure that Elsa should be around her and that he/she was not some vindictive, spiteful child.

Not realizing the inherently protective turn his thoughts had taken, his eyes did not leave Elsa’s face as his low voice quietly answered her question, “Yes, that’s enough, for now.” He paused, continued to study the winged Queen, “Though ‘locking it away’ might be easier, it perhaps isn’t the wisest of choices… You do, after all, have a herd to look after, now. You are anything but alone.” A shadow of a grin crossed his face as he alluded to her new crown. Then, perhaps taking his life into his own hooves, he deliberately and carefully reached out his muzzle to gently bump it against her slender, muscular shoulder. He didn’t know if she would allow it, but his Queen needed some sort of non-violent contact.

...on when you end your story.

the happy ending depends, of course...

As he reached out, the white skin beneath his black lips hardened and disappeared, moving away from his gentle touch. His head turned away and his eyes closed in a longer than necessary blink, internally tamping down the— embarrassment? awkwardness? chagrin? — that suddenly smoldered in his great chest. But it was short-lived as his sadness for his Queen promptly settled its great weight over any other emotion. The woman was so broken by this ‘Addict,’ was so filled with self-loathing, that she shied away from his comforting touch? The Elephant felt his jaw ache to clench, unreasonable anger towards the Addict unfurling in his barrel. “I’m sorry, Elsa—” his low, quiet apology was barely audible… and he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for his touch, for her sorrows, or some other intangible thing.

He had not realized Edgar had left— so the pert zephyr’s absences went unnoticed by the King. Perhaps, had he seen his departure, the giant may been able to understand that this was habitual for the Icebound. That pushing others away was her way of protecting herself. Then again, perhaps this may have been too much of a leap for the Elephant. Regardless, he did not see the companion leave— his eyes and thoughts were too focused on the glacial mare before him.

But it seemed that some of Elsa’s ice had melted, as suddenly there was a cool and soft velvet lightly brushing his broad jaw. It stayed for a breath, then a breath longer— and then it was gone. An ear flicked sideways, towards her, before his great head and deep eyes followed suit and swiveled back to face her.

He had lost her sapphire gaze, which skittered around his as she hastily spoke and made a retreat. His words had been frozen by the unexpected softness of her touch, so it is in silence that he listened and watched her retreat. But his deep words return, said mostly to himself as the Icebound disappeared, “A promise I make,” the low words are resounding, holding more truth than any in Helovia know, “Is a promise I keep.”

...on when you end your story.