Tembovu & Mbwene

He left the Secret Grove, hooves heavy with Orithia’s past (her trust). The thorned rose, the venomous cobra, the valiant dove; she was all those things. She was broken, but whole. Ever-splintering cracks filling with rage, anger, destruction. It was all she knew. But now, perhaps there was more? Perhaps, in their spar, in their small moment of respite in beside the frozen pond… maybe something more began to hold those pieces together?

Could the Elephant really be building something someone?

He had been a vessel of destruction thus far. Either hovering on the edges other’s despair or bringing it, himself. Elsa was a spot of light in his sea of darkness. But was that love? Or was it need? They both needed comfort, trust, dependency, and intimacy… Was he using his Queen? Were they using each other? And Katerina— she couldn’t even meet his gaze. Raeden delved into the spy ranks, but he had led her to the Edge on a hope of love that he couldn’t give (but had he? couldn’t he? he had been lonely on the beach…) The beach, Rexanna— her anguished eyes, her defeated face, and he had raged at her, a pregnant woman he had loved (had?)…

So could he really be building something?

He pushed away the betrayed, ice blue eyes of the leopard as he drew away. There was no use in pursuing that train of thought. He was already wallowing. Mbwene trumpeted behind him (he had gathered her from the Edge after leaving Orithia), annoyed. She was continually annoyed with her big man. The stream of emotions from him was always confusing, and always dispiriting.

So she scurried ahead of his lumbering walk, round pads leaving streaks in the snow that covered the northern part of the Thistle Meadow. It was thicker here, reaching past her knees— she was not impressed.

But she was impressed by the egg, pertly perched in all its golden glory, a ways ahead of her, nestled between the gnarled roots of a leafless tree. She blasted a short trumpet, rousing the Elephant King from his thoughts, as she bounded towards the egg, curiosity overflowing. What was in it? Another elephant like herself? Or maybe—

She abruptly halted before reaching the egg, suddenly turning on heel and swaying her trunk angrily towards Tembovu. She did not want to share him. A cacophony of brassy squeaks, snorts, and trumpets made her displeasure known as the giant halted in front of her.

And, truth be told, his mind felt so full, his chest so full of shadows and darkness (despite Mbwene’s glowing light), that he did not have a part of his soul to give to another companion. He already felt guilt at having bonded to the grouchy elephant calf (this thought elicited a stomp and snort from Mbwene). She was tethered to his demons forever.

He dropped his muzzle, nudging the loud calf reassuringly, which effectively shushed her— especially as she felt his decision through their bond. Though he could not help but admire the gilded globe, and concern spiked through him.

It was so cold in the meadow, and the egg was mostly exposed to the elements. He could at least move it, or build a wind break around it until another, more open soul came along. Feeling the reluctance pulse from Mbwene, he began to slowly approach the tree, watching the oval sphere for any signs of hatching. In his studying, he saw how gold it was, gleaming against the white snow. And the base was dirty? No, it was marbled with black markings, pristine and beautiful against the gold.

The white snow, the black marking, the gold shell— it reminded him of the Thief Rexanna. He could say her name. He paused, Mbwene alongside him, staring at the motionless egg.

Rexanna knew she had lost her mind. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t be afraid to explore. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t be a souvenir. But that’s what she was turning into, slowly but surely. She had hoped the marking that Calstron had given her would just go away. She hoped it would heal and cover with her pale fur, gone from her mind. It had decided to stay, however. And with it, him. He was roaming around somewhere. She didn’t know if he had made it a goal to follow her around. She didn’t even know if he wouldn’t try to steal her life away this time. And yet, she still couldn’t bear the accusing eyes of Rein as he looked upon a broken mother with all her pride and prowess simply gone. Replaced by fear and uncertainty.

It was those eyes that she remembered seeing as she left. The blues that followed her as she made her escape. She loved him, but she didn’t want to hurt him. She couldn’t let Calstron find out that Rein even existed so leaving without him was for the best. She only hoped he’d stay in the fortress of the Basin where the Blood Prince’s wings couldn’t reach.

Every shadow made her flinch, afraid of seeing him approach her once more. Perhaps to give her another marking like the last. Perhaps to just end it. But no, that wouldn’t be fun for him now would it? She bore the golden chains once more that he had gifted her. The ones she fought so hard to rid herself of. The ones she graciously took with open arms from Murtagh without realizing the way they felt until it was too late. Until she felt like the slave child back in golden chains. Pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Even now it seemed like she was pretending. Deep within the caverns of her heart, she knew that her position within her herd was well earned. She knew that she had somehow managed to do a great job and be rewarded for it. But she always had. She always did what she was told, serving her kings and queens to the best of her ability. It wouldn’t have changed if she had stayed with Calstron. She still would be doing the same thing over and over again. Despite how much the Thief thought she had changed and grown from where she came from, she had been met with the sudden realization that perhaps she hadn’t changed at all.

That was what scared her the most.

She was cold, but too wrapped up in her mind to even begin to feel the chill as it swept across her legs like a leech, sucking away the heat her body had. She recognized the Thistle Meadow, the place where she had tried to win over the heart of a giant elephant with an egg in her grasp, only to fail. Rexanna expected to fail at times, but it was times like these that made her feel as though that was all she could do.

A small sigh escaped her lips, a puff of clouds enveloping her head as her blue gaze stared upon the ground. Her golden horn with her chains sliding across her body that with cheery clinking sounds that began to feel more menacing with every step. She could get rid of the chains. There was nothing keeping her from wearing them. But mentally she couldn’t prepare herself to rid them again. As bad as it seemed, she almost enjoyed it in a terrible way.

It was comforting to know that maybe everything in the past wasn’t lost forever. Whether or not it was something good, at least it was nice to know that it even happened.

Her gaze stuck on a few different sized footsteps in the snow. Cream ears perked in a slight wonder of what could have even made one of those tracks. The other, she recognized as a horse – a large one at that. She wanted to shy away from it, just in case she was willingly walking into a trap. But she refused to let her mind get ahead of her heart. So she trudged on. Her gaze sticking to the ground, following the sways and movements she saw. Until she heard something. Lifting her head, she spotted a small elephant. Tilting her head briefly, she wondered if the elephant had come back with another companion? No, she was too small. The other one was much larger. This one wasn’t even the size of a horse, let alone the beast that stood beside it.

Rexanna let her defeated eyes land upon the creature at the elephant’s side. She should’ve known from spotting the elephant who the creature just might be, but if it weren’t for the stripes that adorned his body, the white that adorned his underside, and his sapphire eyes that she began to remember with such comfort, she might have left. She was afraid to speak to him. Nearly afraid to speak to anyone. But if there was someone that could give her comfort, she knew it had to be Tembovu.

She stepped forward, shakily and unsure whether or not she should even proceed. Her scar blackened in the shape of a C on her chest strikingly opposite to the pale ivory that her flesh was. Her head was lowered, but ears perked. Hoping that perhaps Tembovu might be willing to spare a few moments to speak with her. But what was it they were looking at? Her gaze flitted to the tree briefly, her head shifting with the movement. The black exotic lines on her face mimicking the black that adorned her chest now. A slight frown came to her as she realized she couldn’t see anything from this distance. So instead, she inhaled sharply with her eyes fixated on the Elephant King. “Temb?” Her voice shook, "is it really you?" and then her voice cracked, – her façade faltering with each passing moment. She hoped he would greet her with a smile. She needed at least some sort of happiness in her life.

How long had it been, anyway? The last time she met him was in the Threshold with Rein in tow. He was young still, just at the beginning of Frostfall. Had it been months? It felt like an eternity since she remembered being on good terms with him. She missed his embrace. She missed his never-ending scent of sands and heat and a life half lived.

"Talk."

— I don’t have a choice,

but I still choose you.

The Elephant King’s mind was focused on the egg, uncertainty flooding his mind as he so wholly focused on avoiding any inkling of hatching across that gilded, marbled surface. In fact, it wasn’t the King that saw the approach of the gilded vixen. It was Mbwene— she recognized the white flesh, the ashen-tipped mane, the golden horn, then cerulean eyes. She recognized them from parts of dreams that drifted through their bond. It was only the vivid dreams of her bonded that bled into her own, and those of this mare were always vivid. Vivid in the way their bond had felt when Tembovu had been with Elsa. But also vivid in a way that was darker, stranger, sadder. Once, strangely, a pair of dark blue eyes lined in red had bled into her dreams. But very confused images had surrounded it, so she was glad that had only been a single instance.

It was this unfamiliar recognition pulsing through their bond that made the Elephant turn his head away from the golden egg. Who did Mbwene know, yet not know? His brows were creased in bemusement, curiosity sparked in is eyes—

Until navy irises landed on the trembling, bony body. His gaze swept over her gaunt frame, out of habit (out of need) ; it had been so long (too long; not long enough) since he had taken her in. Since his mind had delved into the strange depth and mixture of emotions of looking upon Rexanna. So much like Mara— and yet they had created memories (love?) that was theirs alone.

Memories that were bittersweet. And now, there was more bitter than sweet. The beach flashed in his mind, followed quickly by Rein at her side in the Threshold. The reminder of her lies, of Caleb, hovered in the shadows that drenched their love, their murmured promises, in darkness. It tarnished the gold chains on her face and crumbled the lion’s claw at his chest.

But he saw that more chains adorned her now, in his inspection. Jealousy, sharp and green and venomous, reared in his chest— despite everything. Despite him forsaking his claim on her— or had she shed his claim by slipping beneath the barrel of another man? Regardless, the resentment billowed through their bond that another lover (Rein’s sire?) had given her more golden chains— and marked a knot on her rump—, and it brought a trumpet from Mbwene. But she shifted back, uncertain of this mare from his dreams.

His eyes did not miss (could not miss) the unkempt coat and stringy mane. Nor the trembles and underfed angles of her body. But he especially could not miss the jagged, black scar that boldly stared back at him from her ivory chest. His eyes did not leave it, all during her trembling approach. With each quiver, his body grew harder— nearly vibrating from the rage and guilt that swamped him.

But he stilled as her voice cracked on his name, navy gaze snapping up to her lovely eyes. But he found a clouded, uncertain, broken gaze had replaced the clear and beautiful eyes of Rexanna.

What had happened? What had he done?

Where was the bright woman that had shed light on his demons? Where was the strong vixen that had stood before his raging, hurtful words on the beach, only to tell him she still wanted him to be happy? Where was Rexanna?

In the face of the faltering hope of her words, in the face of her brokenness, his body could not help but respond to her needs— he felt them as much as heard or saw them. “Rexanna,” his rumble was deep, almost hoarse with longing, as he took a large stride towards her. But he stopped himself, eyes flickering to the scar on her chest and hardening slightly, though his face dropped to her level and his body softened towards her, “What happened to you?” His gaze implied the scar, but his question was open ended, asking after all of her.

Vaguely, he began to feel the beginnings of unease from Mbwene. She was trying to tell him something important, something about the egg. But he only had eyes for Rexanna, in this moment.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

The Thief had spent much of the winter outside of the Basin’s walls, enduring much of what Frostfall bore upon her. She had eaten little, and bones had begun to be slightly visible under the stretch of ivory and golden hide. Still, her breaths were even and hopeful, wishing that perhaps this encounter would be the one that she had imagined for far too long. Hopeful that he wasn’t going to be upset with her and still rather frightened of what may come of the encounter.

Her body trembled as he shifted, the elephant to his side gazing at her with wonder and even confusion. All Rexanna had eyes for was the Elephant King. His eyes scanning over her made her feel small and uncomfortable. She began to retreat within herself, pausing in her step with her eyes cast down feeling almost ashamed to have shown up looking as she did so. The scar was darkened now, scabbed over. The skin puffed around it, probably infected a slight amount from all of her movement and wherever Calstron had been previously. The Prince often kept himself put together and clean, but Rexanna had learned that Helovia and the journey here could change someone.

Or perhaps she was the change in the Blood Prince.

Tembovu’s rumble reached her ears and stole her away from her thoughts, eyes lifting to catch his sapphire ones – watching and trembling as he began to approach her. And yet he still stopped. Rexanna’s heart began to beat furiously in her chest, as if upset that he stopped himself, and yet still feeling as though she didn’t deserve to be shown such kindness. His heavy head lowered to meet her gaze and his body relaxed, a mere glimpse of the man she truly loved.

“What happened to you?”

Her ears swiveled in uncertainty. She didn’t want to worry him with Cal, but couldn’t avoid the piercing glare and pulse of the wound in stark contrast to her ivory skin. The Thief began to lift her head slightly, turning her gaze back to Tembovu with her ears flitting to attention. She strode toward him, aiming her delicate exotic striped face to brush against his neck. She missed his scent, his touch, his kindness. Many things she had missed out on since then. She pulled away from him, then, head swiveling away from him as if she was afraid to look him in the eye so close.

Afraid he’d know the lie that was to come.

“Well… A lot has happened.” She shrugged briefly, eyes flickering to the ground. “I used to think that when I first stepped foot into Helovia that everything would change. That I could actually be something. That I could possibly be so much more than I am.” Her blue eyes lit up with a slight amount of hope, but was soon diminished. “I’ve realized now that I haven’t seemed to have changed at all. I want to say that I regret even coming here, that I should’ve stayed with Cal. But I can’t. I can’t say that because then I would regret meeting you and I – I just can’t, I don’t, I won’t regret that.” Her voice began to crack as tears swirled in her eyes, and yet she still stepped away from the King. Unsure what his reaction would be. “Things would have been so much easier."

She stepped away further now, heading toward Mbwene with a soft smile finding her lips. "She's beautiful, Temb. Is she yours?" She questioned him, dipping her head to the sapphire-eyed elephant in greeting. Rexanna's own eyes resulting in a sadness that the smile on her lips hadn't reached. She wanted to shift the attention, to remove it from herself and onto something happier.

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

He flinched.

Of all the foes and threats the Elephant had faced in this life, he flinched at the outstretched muzzle of a woman. But, truth be told, it was not just any woman. It was Rexanna, the siren to his soul. Regardless, beneath the hesitant, outward reach of her warm muzzle, his scarred skin hardened and twitched to her touch. It wasn’t what he expected— it wasn't what he needed— but it was what he wanted. Before he could soften his neck into her brief caress, she was gone, he touch withdrawn as her clouded eyes were drawn to the ground.

A sigh pushed past his nostrils, eyes still not wavering from her face, taking in every nuance and shift of her expression. His ears strained forward, listening to her words; a frown creased the edges of his eyes at the hope killed in her eyes. The frown grew as she continued, ”because then I would regret meeting you and I – I just can’t, I don’t, I won’t regret that.” He heard her voice crack, unwavering gaze saw the tears pool in her eyes, and his body ached to respond. His broad chest tensed, his neck arched— but he held himself back. Despite his needs and wants, despite what she was saying now in her broken words (for, in his close watch, he saw that she was not herself; there was a brokenness in her that he had not seen before); despite all of this, there was a reason they were apart.

His resolve held for long moments, even as she began to move away. “Things would have been so much easier.” But at those words, his chest tightened and his resolution at their distance dissolved. “Rexanna, don’t say—” but his deep words abruptly ended as his neck reached out and his lips and teeth firmly grasped the tangled, ivory mane of the woman. He pulled her towards him, stopping her movement towards Mbwene.

His neck fit over hers, as it always had, even though her withers were more pointed than before. A low groan left his throat, as he fitted her into his chest— it was a relief and it was painful all at once. A long, low breath left his nostrils, before he answered her, “Yes, Mbwene is mine.” But it was clear, from the hoarseness of his voice, that it was not Mbwene he wished to be saying that of.

The calf, in question, however, was suddenly loudly trumpeting, almost angrily, at her bonded. She didn’t have time for this billowing of emotion. The egg was hatching. An image of the cracked, marbled, golden surface forced its way through their bond, loudly landing in Tembovu’s mind.

He stiffened, shifting around to place Rexanna between himself and the hatching egg. Alarm coursed equally between himself and Mbwene as she mirrored his movements and shuffled behind the entwined stallion and mare. “Rex, go,” dismay colored his tone, “I can’t tie another to me… I can’t,” there was a misery that took the strength out of his great body as he gently pushed the woman towards the egg away from him.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

Rexanna’s eyes stuck to the companion in a bit of happiness, knowing that Tembovu had gotten some sort of happiness that she couldn’t take away. However, before she could spare another glance and broken smile to the elephant, she felt a tug at her mane – the Elephant King, roping her in, melting her to his side like they had always been. A puzzle piece, one that fit ever so perfectly and still so dangerously. She flinched at the rough momentum, fearing the memory of the scar that was so vividly fresh within her mind. And yet, when she felt his neck wrap around hers, almost as if he was cradling her, she melted into his embrace like she always had. He answered her, giving her the knowledge of the small elephants name, and she nuzzled her face into him briefly unsure of how to really respond.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to respond, as the small elephant screamed melodies with her long trunk – grasping Rexanna’s attention in a swift moment. Her head jutted toward her, looking past her to the marbled cracking golden egg. Her eyes widened as she felt Tembovu’s body stiffen. And as he moved, she realized how much she had desperately missed his caresses. There wasn’t time to dwell on it. “Rex, go. I can’t tie another to me… I can’t” She froze, then. Staring at this hatching golden egg – reminding herself of Rein and the instability of her already small family. Afraid to see what would come of it if she were to have a companion as well. She took a shaky step toward the egg as Tembovu pushed her. Slowly stepping toward it, she let her blue gaze fall on the egg as the cracks grew more prominent.

And then she turned to look at the Elephant King with a deep sadness within her brow. She shook her head, tears bubbling once again. “I – I can’t Temb. Not now… It’s not the right time.” She shook her head again, turning to look back at the egg. “I can barely take care of Rein anymore. I’m scared I can’t protect him against the ghost of my past.” Her voice cracked as she tried to force her eyes away from it, but she couldn’t. Images began to flash into her mind of the egg and she tried to force them out. “I’m terrified I won’t be able to care for it either.” She turned from it then, letting her gaze seek desperately for the King’s.

“Look at me. I can barely take care of myself anymore. Let alone Rein and a companion.” She huffed, anger beginning to overcome her from the fears the Bloody Prince had dwelled within her. “What if he finds it? What will he do to it?” She whispered, eyes casting down to the ground before a pull from the egg made her body twitch. Craning her neck to look back at the egg, she watched as a large piece of it fell away – revealing a gold and black weasel looking creature. It gazed up at her with bright yet beady eyes, and she began to feel extremely overwhelmed. Tears brimmed on the edge of spilling over as she began to move more toward the creature that looked to her like she was the only thing that mattered. “Why does it look like me?” Her voice broke as tears fell, lowering her head to the small creature. It reached up with its little nose, brushing by the center of her muzzle in a form of comfort – almost as if he knew how terrified she was, but still believed she could be his.

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

Her flinch as she pulled her to him did not go unnoticed, but it was swept aside as she melted into him, and then forgotten as the egg’s hatching loomed before them. But the flinch created something in him— something ugly and something angry, looming and uncontrollable, and entirely undefined. But it was something for the Elephant to discover on another day.

He watched her haunches at she moved towards the egg, some sort of relief overwhelming his dread at breaking their embrace. But it was short-lived, as her cerulean gaze (now sitting deeper than before in her gaunt face) turned back to him, filled with tears. Her tears— they quietly and easily sizzled as they put out the caged, angry flames in his chest. How easily she returned there, how thoughtless and smoothly did she fit amid the enraged wreckage in his ribs.

Ears perk forward at words, head instinctively beginning to stretch out towards her; a front hoof lifted to bring him closer. But Mbwene’s alarmed squeak froze his limb— the egg, don’t go closer to it! A low, slow breath blew out his nostrils as he sought to control the need that was driving him towards her fragile, scarred body.

“I’m terrified I won’t be able to care for it either”, her words brought a slight frown to his tense face. “Rexanna, go to it,” his low voice was soft as he urged her, “Bond to it, it will help you, and,” his muzzle gestured toward Mbwene (who still stayed at his back legs), but his eyes never left hers, “You’ll be surprised how resilient companions are,” a corner of his mouth crooked up in a small, lopsided grin.

“What if he finds it? What will he do to it?” her whisper was nearly missed, and immediately the King’s ears tilt backwards at the fear that invaded her voice. His brow creased, grin wiped from his face as his lips parted to ask her who caused her voice to hush in fright— but his words were stolen (but not forgotten) by the bright, beady eyes that peered out from the egg.

The little creature’s face was based in black and white, small eyes and nose blinking against the sunlight and quivering with new breath. Its body was a furry, slick mess of variegated gold and black. The Elephant’s brows raised for, despite being rodent-like, the small creature was handsome.

A questioning half-trumpet came from Mbwene’s trunk, and the giant hesitantly tested himself. Relief. There was only one other’s shared thoughts in his mind. His half-grin returned, though it did not entirely reach his eyes because his thought were still centered on her fearful whisper. “It’s very handsome, Rex,” his voice was warm, however, as his sweeping strides brought him alongside her, looking down at the hatched egg, “We called that pattern marembo, in Dorobo,” his low words rumbled from his barrel while he watched her lower her muzzle to the newborn polecat.

Though his smile at seeing the kit brush Rexanna’s maw was genuine, it faded as he gently touched her shoulder with his muzzle, drawing her attention, before asking, “Rexanna, who is the ‘he’ you are afraid will find you and your companion?”

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

The polecat lingered near Rexanna’s muzzle, reaching up with tiny paws and staring with bright beady eyes. His mask of white and black resembling much of Rexanna’s own pale face with black stripes, but it was his golden coloring that had her blue gaze captured. Tembovu’s words had retained in her mind, but she didn’t decide to respond. “You’ll be surprised at how resilient companions are.’ She wanted to argue with him in that instance. This creature was tiny! About the only thing he could probably do would be to run and hide in small spaces – though ironically, similar to how Rexanna wanted to deal with her issues. But instead, she began to turn her head away from the polecat. His little hands reaching for her once again as he stood shakily on back legs, his striped and spotted tail flickering behind him for balance. He looked over to the elephant as the two of them heard Mbwene’s trumpet. Rexanna felt the Elephant King’s presence as he approached her, standing beside her. Her gaze lifting to catch his. “He is.” She admitted, looking down briefly to the polecat that appeared to be reaching outstretched with his hands – tired of being on the ground in the cold for much longer.

She lowered her head to him, nearly against the ground, so the polecat could climb up onto her. Images flashed into her mind of the happiness that her companion had felt the moment he was lifted away from the icy earth beneath. The polecat began to make his way across her face, nestling himself between her ears, forelock, and horn – using Tembovu’s gift to her as a way to hold on in case she were to move too quickly. Rexanna, despite the warmth and comfort from her newly found companion, she couldn’t seem to express it. Instead, she listened quietly, a somber gleam in her eye as Tembovu spoke of what they called the pattern in his homeland. She nodded, slowly – careful to refrain from messing up the polecat’s nest. Parting her lips to speak, she stopped when Tembovu asked her about her previous whisper.

Her lips formed a frown, feeling as the polecat let go of her forelock and chains and began to move slightly further up her head to stop around her ears, reaching for the fluff that Frostfall had granted her, despite her loss in weight. He began to make small squeaking sounds in her ears, causing her to flick them back in frustration. What was so important that the creature demanded her attention in such a serious problem?  A name! Rexanna thought, and the polecat’s squeaks died down. She needed a name for him, but all she could think of was sadness, Cal, and this so very strange encounter with her past lover. She let her gaze try to find the sapphires of Tembovu’s, reaching for him with her muzzle briefly. “My companion needs a name…” She began, feeling strange at the mere mention of the word. “I – I want you to name him.” Her eyes fell from his masculine face to the grey tones of Mbwene’s softer one. She waited for a brief moment, deciding whether or not she should even tell him about her encounter with Cal, deciding that perhaps the anger the Elephant King would show would demolish any hope of a name coming from him for her companion. The companion that Tembovu had found.

Tightening her jaw, she looked away from him, waiting for his answer of a name or other things, before she figured she’d tell him. Her head swiveling out and away from him and the Mbwene, the tiny polecat watching with his masked face and tiny eyes as the world around him continued to shift. “It’s Cal, Temb.” She spoke to him, but aimed her words out over nothing. She didn’t want to look at him and see the anger that she knew would flush through his being. “He’s here, in Helovia. He found me. Just like he said he would.” She turned her gaze back to Tembovu, a line of sadness sparking in her eyes beginning to be nullified by the Polecat. “The scar you asked me about earlier? His scar. It’s in the shape of a C for a reason...”

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

The Elephant watched the infant, marbled body scale Rexanna’s face with dextrous ease; its (his) small hands were the source of such adept climbing. Navy eyes creased as the black paws cover and stroke her pale face, a hind paw skating along the black lines. He had once been the one to trace such markings, to caress the silken skin of the siren’s face. Mbwene, swayed by the mild jealousy she felt from her bonded, looked down to her own round, flat feet. They were anything but agile. She raised her trunk in front of her, inspecting the nimble tip— but it was no match for the already skillful hands of the polecat. A brassy, grumpy snort escaped her— at least she had proper tusks.

The gilded, black creature (unknowingly) added further insult to injury as he grasped the golden chains. The Elephant’s gift to Rexanna in a happier time— a time when they had been lovers. A short, pained breath pushed out of his chest, but he reined in the feeling; instead, forcing his attention on the closeness, the warmth of her slender body beside his— close enough to touch. How long had it been since he had had her this close? It felt like lifetimes.

Black-rimmed ears twitch, at the sudden, shrill squeaks from the newborn companion. He was incredibly loud for being so young— the Elephant eyed the marbled creature for a moment. But his eyes snapped back to Rexanna’s cerulean ones as she spoke, her muzzle reaching towards him. Without flinching or hesitation, now, he reached out and met her seeking muzzle— glad to be the one touching her, rather than watching her companion do so. His muzzle met hers straight-on briefly, before slipping along the side of her lips and gently caressing the side of her maw with a soft touch of his lips.

“I want you to name him.”

“Me?” his usually deep voice rose octaves with surprise. His muzzle withdrew, brows raised in surprise as he lost her gaze to Mbwene. She wanted him to name her companion? A strange lightness buoyed in his barrel. Naming a companion was personal, intimate— a companion shared her soul. Naming it was naming part of her. It was an honor, a gift, and a duty he did not take lightly.

But, some selfish part of him rose as his mind mulled. A name from Dorobo. To leave a mark of himself on her soul, just as she had left on his. His eyes studied the marbled pattern of black and gold on the polecat that sat so comfortable as Rexanna’s crown, realizing that the newborn’s name had already come to him, “Marembo.” His voice was firm, but warm, “A strong name, but sharp enough for your nimble companion.”

He fell silent as her law tightened— he was still awaiting and answer to his question. She turned away, but in their closeness he could still watch her intently. “It’s Cal.” She was right to turn away if she did not want to see his anger, for immediately his body tensed and his teeth clenched, gaze flickering to the scar on her chest as she spoke of it.

Instinctively, as if to heal whatever pain it had caused her, his muzzle reached out to smooth over the black scar on her chest. Despite his anger and tense movements, his lips on her skin were soft and gentle, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Suddenly her gauntness, her fear, her broken gaze— it all was explained. “Rexanna, come with me,” again, the appeal that always left his lips came, “I can keep you safe in the Edge.” Forgotten, for the moment, was her son in the Basin. Forgotten was his passion with Elsa. Forgotten was the deep connection with Oritihia. Forgotten were his duties in the face of her pain and danger.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

His touch had always reminded her of what they used to be. The warmth, care, intent, that lined each little hair on his nose as it grazed her face seemed as though they felt full of memories – both good and bad, but of the two of them together. Somehow, despite the terrible choices she had made in the past with the Elephant King, she had begun to realize that perhaps it was a lesson. Cal had returned, striking her with a fear she hadn’t felt in years. She had hoped that coming here, no one would know who she was or where she came from – especially as the queen that she would never become. Helovia had given her choices, ladders to climb upon, a name to make of herself. And even though she had been here longer than Tembovu – the stallion was ambitious, righteous, and caring. Many of the qualities that the Thief believed she lacked. Perhaps that’s what made her gravitate toward him so badly. Despite being hopelessly in love with him and afraid to admit it (even to herself) he completed her. Where she was lithe and agile, Tembovu was hardened and bulky; where he chose to lay his heart out in the open, she chose to break them instead.

Yet she couldn’t bear the thought of breaking his heart once more. After everything that had happened – after Rein, after the reunion with Calstron, Rexanna had learned the lesson that the Elephant King himself spoke of when she confessed her crimes against his love. “When you find something right, something good,  something precious, then you hold on to it. You fight for it. You treasure it. There is not enough time- not nearly enough time- to spend with loved ones during this life, however long it may be. So when you find someone you love, you do not test that love. You do not threaten it. You spend every possible moment simply loving them.” And how true was it now? She had found something good great, something so precious to her, and she chose to toss it away like a used rag. Despite the heartache she felt, she hadn’t treasured it as much as she should have. Regret was worn across her face – but not for the reasons that she had tried to speak of prior. She wore the regret for not believing in their love the way that he had. The thoughts dwelled on her as his voice reached her ears delicately and deliberately. The polecat eyed the stallion with eyes that portrayed the mare’s feelings. As if she weren’t already an open book for him. He gazed at Tembovu with eyes that seemed to show that despite what she said and what she did, he was the last one she thought about before she slept every night; he was the first one she thought of in the morning when she woke up.

And the polecat wasn’t wrong.

“Marembo. A strong name, but sharp enough for your nimble companion.” Rexanna’s cerulean gaze trailed back to his as she melted at his touch, drinking in his words. The polecat’s ears danced in a flurry as if he accepted the name, puffing out his chest with the faintest of smiles on his lips. “Marembo it is.” She spoke gently, feeling the happiness and warmth envelope her from her brand new connection. The faintest smile grew on her own lips as well. “He likes it.” She spoke again gently, eyes drifting away from him as the conversation turned darker. As he took in what she had said about Cal, she refused to see what physical changes he would endure. Suddenly, she felt his broad warm muzzle caress her scar. She would have flinched if not for the fact that she knew that it was him this time. And so she stood strong, her head swinging around to brush her exotic striped face against his as his lips trailed the scar with tenderness and care.

“Rexanna, come with me, I can keep you safe in the Edge.” He spoke once again, the low rumble of his voice as it grazed across the tender hairs of her ears. She remembered the memory of her confession to him – remembering how she had turned him down so many times, and it seemed to weigh on her. She was silent for a moment, her gaze lingering on his stripes that lined his back and the broad stripe across his barrel. Wondering what would become of the Thief that left the Basin without a notice, joining the Edge to be side by side with Tembovu. Seconds passed before she tensed with the realization that she had forgotten all about Rein in this troublesome adventure. A small frown crossed her lips and her ears flickered back with worry, pulling her head away from him to look away again. Marembo’s tiny fingers danced around each of the chains, looking down at the glinting colors as they shifted with the light. He was just as deeply in thought as she was, the connection between them pulling him into an almost distressed state. He looked up, then, to Tembovu before placing a tiny paw on Rexanna’s ear. He patted it ever so gently, as if it was the okay that Rexanna needed from her thoughts.

She searched for Tembovu’s gaze, then. Hoping to lock hers with his sapphires. “The only place I know anymore that’s safe is by your side.” She admitted, shifting her weight slightly. “But I would need to figure out how to protect Rein from being so far away from him… I don’t know what I’d do with myself if Cal got to him.” Another frown crossing her muzzle, yet with Marembo’s patting encouragement, she cleared her throat to continue. “I don’t want you to think that I’m denying you again. If it’s not too much of a problem, I would love to visit and see how I’d fit in? Is that alright?” Her eyes sought his, hope blossoming behind the wall of sadness that had overcome them previously. Marembo sat upright, pleased with the point that his bonded had gotten across, stared expectantly at the Elephant King – almost as if he dared him to be upset with that answer.

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

He had thought, as her gaze had avoided his own and a frown had marred the gaunt (but still beautiful) face, that she had been searching for a way to soften the blow; to soften her denial. He had been expecting to be denied— another ‘no’ from the siren, as she had refused him so many times before. Rexanna had always softened her rejections with whispers of love and promises of passion. But now— now there were no whispers, only a simple proclamation, “The only place I know anymore that’s safe is by your side.” While he had felt the open, honest gaze of Marembo on his face, his own navy eyes had sight only for the bright, cerulean depths of Rexanna. Despite her shifting weight, a traitorous, buoyant light had expanded in the depths of his barrel; this was not a rejection passing from her pale, seducing lips.

“I would need to figure out how to protect Rein.” And, with just the name, the light collapsed. She had a son with another man— a man she loved? His ears swept backwards at the thought, and she lost his navy eyes to the the marbled gold pieces of eggshell. He studied the jagged edges, even as she continued to speak— words of appeasement. She would visit? Was that to ease her eventual, imminent refusal? Did her heart belong to the Basin, to her child’s father? Navy eyes traced the gilded edges harshly— so sharp they could cut.

He had not realized that his breaths had grown shallow, as the realizations had tumbled in his massive skull. His mind had been wiped blank of everything but her pain and fear just moments before— but now circumstance came crashing in, coloring the present with reality. She had Rein, a life; he had Elsa, his Queen— a woman already once betrayed by her lover, would he do it as well? Was this a betrayal, when he did not hold the Thief’s heart?

Shallow breaths turn into a long, low one. “I would protect Rein,” he said, quietly. Because he was a child, a son of the woman who had once given him so much. “The Basin and the Edge are allied, now. You are welcome to visit the Edge whenever you’d like, Rexanna,” her full name felt strange on his tongue, now— almost impersonal. His mouth opened again— but closed, as he wasn't sure what more he could say; wasn’t sure how to say…

“But do not feel you need to visit to appease me. Stay in the Basin, with your son— and his father— if you wish,” his quiet words fell on the sharp edges the shattered shell.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

Just like that, Marembo began to squeak at the Elephant King. He clutched Rexanna’s mane with tight fistfuls of ivory and ash, blue eyes watching him with content. Unsure of what the past between them was, all the polecat had to go off of was the ideas that ran through the Thief’s own head. The squeaking began to die down and he grew silent at the mention of her full name, which had gathered Rexanna’s attention as well, an ear flicking back in uncertainty. Did he not want her to come after all? She felt as though she was ready for a chance to try something new – to be brave for once, and yet all Tembovu could return with was her name (at least admitting that the herds were allied and that she could have reign of visitation) it still didn’t seem enough for her to be content in the decision. She studied his face, feeling the tug on her mane from Remy, and watched him in silence waiting for him to finish. His lips parting and clamping just again, almost as if he didn’t know what to say next.

“But do not feel you need to visit to appease me. Stay in the Basin, with your son – and his father – if you wish.”

Rexanna, ears pinning back for a few moments at the mention of Ashamin and the sound of his voice growing low and quiet – defeated perhaps? She cleared her throat, turning her head away from him, following his gaze to the shell that the polecat had been born from. “Regardless of what you think I’m trying to do to you Tembovu, I honestly want to try.” She admitted, a sharp contrast to her voice from the shaken encounter. She believed she had garnered some of her confidence from the polecat, a bit too much ego for such a tiny creature, but it rubbed off. “I know you would protect Rein. But I believe you need know the circumstances of his birth, and not to just believe the idea that I could have fallen in love with anyone other than you.” She admitted, her head swinging back to him. Her cerulean eyes seeking his gaze to try and get her point across. Remy had grown silent, simply watching with his ears perked to listen – despite the fact he couldn’t understand what was happening, he knew he could at least feel the emotion that vibrated from the mare.

“Do you remember when I told you about how I escaped from Aciend the first time?” She questioned, naming the place Calstron was heir to for the first time in what felt like decades. “Aciend is where Cal became King. I came from Halyven, and I had to travel my way across both Kingdoms in the hopes of finding refuge from those that looked for me. Remember? And remember how, against my better judgement, I ended up seducing my way out of capture?” She paused again, her gaze never faltering. Her voice strong and full of knowledge and regret for what happened. “You need to understand that this whole thing about coming to Helovia and changing came from that. I wanted to be different, I didn’t want to be the one that tried to sleep her way out of her fear. And when I say that I haven’t changed, it’s because that’s exactly what happened with Rein. I do not love his father. I never have, and I never will. I haven’t even seen him since Rein’s birth. Usually, Rein decides he’s going to make his way to where his father lives, and make his way back to my cave.” Her gaze slipped away from him then, seeking the shell with sharp edges that Tembovu had been looking upon previously.

“I sparred Ashamin, he turned into some kind of beast. I was wounded, and honestly frightened when I thought it was the only way to break free of the battle. Tiamat healed me, and I recovered without injury or scarring – but instead of getting out of it so easily I ended up carrying his child.” She sighed, eyes flitting to his as her ears sunk lower in a small display of defeat. “Don’t try and pretend that I could ever genuinely love someone more than I love you.” Her voice rose in a more powerful tone, hiding the frustration that she found in her chest at the idea that Tembovu could believe that. “I tried to simply be without you, and ended up becoming the person I’ve tried so hard to stay away from. Don’t you dare try to think that I’ve done any of this to hurt you. It’s just how I am and how I’ve been.” Are you willing to try and change me? It was that moment when she felt Remy grow uncomfortable under the pressure felt from her expression. Rexanna moved forward to the Elephant King, stretching her muzzle out in the hopes to brush by his own broad face, hoping he could understand. Simply just wishing he would understand.

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

Black rimmed ears twitch at the high-pitched squeaks of the newborn polecat. Likewise, Mbwene’s ears flap in annoyance at the shrill sound, trunk raising and giving a short blast towards the creature. Bright blue eyes narrow somewhat at the small, marbled creature, small head cocking as she inspected it from place on the ground, beside her bonded. She did not galavant around on Tembovu’s head, like this nimble little creature. No, her place was on the earth, regally alongside her bonded— at least, that is what she was inclined to think.

The Elephant King, however, aside from a few jerks of his ears, brought his eyes up from the shattered shell and continued to wholly focus on Rexanna. Although the recesses of his mind acknowledged the urgency and sincerity that laced the noises emanating from her newly hatched companion, the stallion’s attention was placed solely with his woman.

He watched her pale ears pin, he watched her head turn away from him; he steeled himself as he lost her lovely eyes, readying himself for losing her. His ears tilted back, his neck grew rigid; a deep breath steadied his broad chest. But there was nothing to be done for the clawing, spreading, unending darkness that was pervading his barrel.

“I honestly want to try.”

His brows shot up, surprise overwhelming any other emotion. She continued, and his eyes squarely met hers as she swung her head back to him— though his eyes shuttered once at the mention of Rein’s birth. He blinked at the emotion— the intense sincerity— that laced her words. Words that found the light extinguished by his own, poisonous and doubtful thoughts. Words that grew the light, the hope, with each syllable.

”Do you remember when I told you about how I escaped from Aciend the first time?” He nodded slightly in answer to her question, ears swiveling forward to hear her speak. His jaw clenched once as she reminded him of her time as a refugee, sleeping with men who would take advantage of the beautiful mare while she tried to stay alive. But, aside from the one creak of teeth, he remained silent— his mind inundated with her words as it roiled and scrambled to keep up with this tirade of information.

“I do not love his father.”

He stilled. Even the mention of Rein’s father’s name (Ashamin) did not cause a tick or a ripple in the stone statue of the Elephant. Only the thought of Rexanna having to sleep her way of battle (out of fear) cause a muscle to twitch in his jaw. Rein was the product of fear? Not of love? Or passion? A long, hard breath blew out of his flared nostrils— new emotions began to take rise out of the surprise that had wiped his mind blank.

First was relief. Relief that this woman was still his— that her love did not lie with the man who sired her child. Second was anger. Anger that the father to her child was only the father because she had been afraid. Third was admiration. Admiration for this mare to so freely tell him all of this. There was no pride here, hiding in faults in words or half-truths (at least, none that the stallion could perceive). How different from their first, fateful union on the beach and their confrontation in the meadow shortly after. “How far we’ve come, Rex,” was his first, soft murmur once she finished speaking.

He paused for a long moments, then. His mind slowly settling, shifting, processing. “I went to a dark place, when you left me,” he began, still quietly, eyes tracing her outstretched muzzle. But he resisted the need to reciprocate— to touch her. He needed to say these things first, before her soft skin penetrated his thoughts and overtook his reasoning, “When we parted, on the beach, and you were pregnant… I thought I had controlled my anger, my vengeance, but it left with you. You kept the demons at bay. And without you—” he faltered for a moment, dark eyes searching her own, “I attacked Mauja, I turned Alysanne against me, I…” He hurt Elsa. Now, swamped by the relief of Rexanna’s words (the closeness of her heat), he understood that his connection to Elsa had been out of urgency and need. Combined with his deep and genuine care for the Queen, and he (in hindsight) realized he had followed his loneliness and need into the arms of a likewise hurt woman. His ears tilted back, unsure of how to share this with Rexanna, and so his eyes fell from her face.

Silence stretched long, painful moments for the King. And then, instead of explaining, he suddenly jutted out his pale muzzle, dark lips sliding along her face perhaps more forcefully than he intended. “Neither of us are good without each other,” his whisper was hoarse and throaty, leaving the second half of his question lost in the feeling of her skin: “But together, will we ruin each other?”

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

The Elephant King stilled and Rexanna watched, retracting her muzzle closer to her as he began to speak, desperately searching his face for any hope of understanding. She watched as his eyes traced her muzzle and spoke of dark places. A small frown found her lips as he spoke, knowing very well that she too had gone to a dark place. Her ears flickered with every sound he spoke, wavering in uncertainty as he mentioned her pregnancy. She couldn’t take his eyes off of him as he confessed even if she wanted to.

“You kept the demons at bay, and without you – I attacked Mauja, I turned Alysanne against me, I…”

Her eyes widened slightly. What had compelled the Elephant King to attack Mauja and Alysanne? Her memories returning to her of the painted Pegasus she had met in the Rotunda. The feeling she had gathered from the encounter of her Edge doctor. The Thief parted her lips to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead a sigh passed through her lips as the silence grew – unsure of how to console her lover. The silence crumbled down as his dark lips crashed with her face. It carried a bit more pressure behind it than she was used to, but she thankfully took the gesture. She reached for him, lips running across his neck as he traced over her skin. “I’m sure they’ll come around…” She said gently, truly not knowing if her words would even matter. She didn’t know Mauja or Alysanne well enough to determine what they would do given time. “You’re their King now, Temb. Kings make mistakes now and then, some worse than others, but regardless they need your guidance and they will come around with time.” She spoke gently, her breath and words falling into his soft winter’s pelt. “Don’t push them, let them come to you.” She smiled into his skin as she melted into his touch.

Marembo at this point had maneuvered his way down to Rexanna’s withers, grasping onto her long dual toned mane with agile hands to stay out of the clashing of horns and faces into skin. Meanwhile, Rexanna let a few moments of silence draw over them as she simply drank in his scent of deserts and mystery.  “I never meant to hurt you, Tembovu. We were never truly good before, but together we might be able to take this world by storm. I've done my best to support you the best I can. You have always returned the favor. I want to start over, no secrets or lies. If I manage to get enough time in the world, I'll tell you about my experiences if I, too, can learn about Dorobo.” She did her best to pronnounce his homeland to show him that she cared – and before she could allow him to respond, she pulled her head away from him and maneuvered herself to where her body lined against his (opposite from the side that Mbwene stood on) – pressing against every part of him, fearful that he might shatter if she stayed away too long. “Do… Do you want to give it another try? Give us another try?” She questioned, her head craning over to him with her muzzle tracing the lines of his muscular shoulder as if she were subconsciously urging him to say yes.

Marembo slid from Rexanna's withers then, down her leg with shaken grace. He plopped to the frozen earth and searched for warmth from somewhere else. In this case, the two unicorns seemed too preoccupied to deal with their issues elsewhere, and so Remy sought Mbwene. He found her on Tembovu's side as he ran quickly across the icy blades of grass. His blue eyes looked up to hers, allowing her to inspect him so long as she might keep him warm. He took a long look at her ears, wondering what kind of warmth resided behind them as he reached up for her with his little hands. He stood on his back legs with poor balance and reached out for the grayness of her trunk with hope.

"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

He catches the widening of her eyes out of the corner of his gaze, before his lips pass beyond the skin of her cheek and skim her neck. Yes, he had attacked Mauja. Her surprise makes his ears tilt back as his muzzle stops its caresses, guilt beginning to flood and drown the warmth and light that was filling him.

But, then, she is reaching for him, her velvet muzzle running across his own neck. A low groan comes involuntarily from his throat— how long had it been? How long since he had felt Rexanna’s soft touch, willing and unencumbered by circumstance or self-inflicted pain, on him? It had been too long; it felt like decades.

His silvered buckskin hide ripples as her lips brush against it with their speech. And her words— they were gentle and appeasing, telling the Elephant what he wanted to hear. Words that spoke of her belief in him and confidence in his ability as ruler— so refreshingly different than his own self-doubt. He felt her smile against his skin and it was nearly his undoing— thick neck reaching to roughly hook over her withers and pull her tighter to him.

Ears flicked back to hear her words, breathing in her scent of sunshine and lilies— even in the chill the warm scents pervaded her long coat. It was this, her frail and ragged body, along with her next words that made him pause— that gave him some semblance of control over his passion despite feeling and scenting Rexanna against him.

Thick lips gently grab loose skin, rolling it between them, before letting go and repeating elsewhere as she speaks. Lips run gently along her protruding spine as she carefully pronounces his homeland, speaking of wanted to know more. More about him, more about Dorobo, more about each other together.

His roving mouth pauses at her loin, chin resting on the gentle ridges of her sacrum. There was so much to tell. Of his homeland, of his past in Helovia. Elsa flew into his mind— guilt giving pause to the heat and passion that was warming the depths of his barrel and flooding his veins. He should tell Rex, she deserved to know… “Rexanna, you should know—” his low, rough words were cut off by her suddenly moving and pressing her silken heat all along his side.

Gone was the restraint, gone was the pause, the need to tell her everything. “No more secrets or lies.” Her question, the soft tracing of her muzzle against his shoulder— heat thundered with each iron pump of his heart, passion-dilated pupils swallowing his navy irises. The base of his barrel pounded with heat as his muzzle reached between them, meeting hers as it traced his shoulder and running along her face, pausing at his gift of golden chains on her forehead, “Yes, angalia, I want to give us another try.” Easily, naturally as it always had been with Rexanna, he shifted his massive bulk behind her.

Yet, despite the overwhelming heat and the promise of her skin against his, he paused, muzzle tracing narrow, too-thin haunches before hovering above her tail, “Is this what you want?” His rough voice, laced with need, continued, “It’s been so long… I don't wan’t to hurt you.” And there’s Cal, and Rein, and Ashamin, and Elsa, his mind shouted at him, but it was loss beneath the roar of passion’s flames.

Mbwene, having felt this kind of emotion from her bonded when he was with Elsa, began to shift away from the touching, entwined couple. Though, as she had turned to Edgar with Elsa, Marembo’s bright, hopeful eyes turned to her. Ears flap once, and her trunk reaches out for his nimble, outstretched hands, looping around his small body and placing him atop her back, behind her ears. Though she was small for an elephant, she was large compared to Marembo. Trumpeting lightly, she tucked her ear around the small polecat and trundled them off, away from the lovers, past his cracked egg, and behind the gnarled, barren tree.

---

angalia= my light

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.

And just like that, the polecat was lifted by his new found friend and placed delicately on her back behind her ear, his paws gently grabbing at the rough ashen hide to place himself better with a thankful squeak - unsure of what exactly the feeling was that was given from his bonded. Nevertheless, the elephant moved on and away from the two lovebirds.

Rexanna smiled to Tembovu, feeling the caress of his lips against her hide (as worn down and unkempt it was). It was a graceful feeling, all while knowing it had been so long since the two of them could indulge in something as powerful as this. Gone were the thoughts of Calstron roaming about, gone were the thoughts of the Basin and her son, gone were the thoughts of what everyone else thought of her and her relationship to the Edge's King. Despite the advice given to her from Kiuaji, she still didn't listen. She never had. Regardless of who gave her the advice, she always seemed to break it one way or another.

She didn't even hear him as he tried to say something, instead his touch was delicately placed along her, pausing at the delicate gift that he had given her (and silently she was thankful for the little Fall's colt that had helped her retrieve the chains). His slur vibrated in her chest, illuminating all the dark caverns and erasing all the shadows of doubt that had clung to it's walls. He moved behind her, and the Thief flicked her tail aiming the ends of her dual toned tresses to land along his chest. His muzzle graced her hips - even though she had become rather bony from the long winter, she still wouldn't dare try to stop this from happening.

She flicked her tail one more time, a sign from her telling him she wanted this without words. Shifting her neck, she peered behind her and shifted her weight accordingly. "You won't hurt me, Temb." Her voice was honest and laced with a purr of lust. "I want this." She breathed to him with a small smile, hinting in the corners of her words for a smirk. She no longer felt the darkness and demons gripping her (as she had when she first came across Tembovu in the Meadow), now all she felt was happiness and light and greed. She flicked her tail once more, craning her head back to a more comfortable place and placing her hooves on the more solid of the icy grounds. Passion illuminated her mind and seemingly blinded her from anything else. She was ready for this, after what seemed like an eternity. They had eclipsed, come full circle, to end now where it had began - without her secrets, her lies, her broken promises. She knew just how much self control that he had - if his pounding heartbeat she had felt previously had anything to say about it, that he would end up giving in to her once more. And she was ready to give in to him once again.



"Talk."

And my love is yours, but your love’s not mine

so I’ll go—

—but we know I’ll see you down the line.

The ashen tips of her tail tickled his chest, their gentle sting igniting more flames in his barrel and between his legs— it was so easy to fall into this with Rexanna again. Her soft voice and encouraging words spoke to his soul while her body— voluptuous or thin— heated his blood. Her movements, so simply sensual, aroused him with the smallest of movements— a flick of an ear, a drop of her gaze, a soft smile on her lips. It was natural. The Elephant couldn't resist.

So, with the permissive shift of her weight and breathy, aroused words of longing, he gave in. His muzzle rested on her hip for a moment longer, breathing in her scent while his lips brushed her skin, “Rexanna,” his voice was hoarse, lusty, around her name. And then the flames roared to high, the heat became to hot, and he lifted (carefully) onto her back.

—baby makin’—

He slipped down beside her, trying and failing to conceal the relief that lay beneath the elated satisfaction on his black-marked face. He had performed. It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t been worried, since the last time Rexanna had been beneath him, his stallion prowess had been lacking.

But not this time. He had been gentle, even quick, as the slender and worn body of his love had supported him. Steam rose in lazy wisps from his neck, but he was not drenched in sweat as their previous passionate embraces had left him. Those had been erotic and lustful affairs, this had been tender, affectionate, loving. This had been an apology and a promise wrapped in wordless whispers of devotion.

His muzzle traced along her lean neck, halting to lip and play with the long, silken, tangled strands of her mane. Part of him, a selfish part, wanted to demand that she come back to the Edge with him now. To forget about her son, about Ashamin (so complete was his current happiness that even that name did not dampen it), about her duties as head Thief and drag her to the cliffs with him.

But she had a son, his father, and a duty to the Basin. And he had Elsa, a woman who deserved either an explanation or an apology (or both). So, instead of demands, his lips parted and a warm rumble came, “Don’t take long coming to the Edge, my princess,” his pet name from their first night on the beach fell easily from his lips, “Or I’ll have to come get you from the Basin.” Half playfully, half seriously, he tugged on the tendrils of her mane as warm satiation erased any memory of his demons.

— My dear, but if I make the Pearly Gates

I’ll do my best to make a drawing of God and Lucifer,

a boy and girl,

An angel kissin’ on a sinner.