His intensely blue gaze grew sharp as he watched her; they traveled over every inch of her copper skin—searching for what? He didn’t know. Perhaps injuries. Perhaps some answer as the why she had left him. Or why she had taken him. Just searching, roaming, wandering. Instead of answers, they found more questions: questions of was her skin still as abnormally warm as when he was a colt? Or as satin smooth? And her scars—could he touch them, now?
His gaze ceased its drifting along those white hairs then he saw her tiny black hooves settle back into the rich grass. This was a place untouched by Orangemoon’s dryness. Eyes and ears sweep away from her body and towards her face, sharp blue crashing into soft green.
Though, his own ears quivered slightly as she spoke his name in her quiet, dulcet voice. And it visibly softened his edges; youthfully grown muscles eased beneath testosterone-gleaming gold skin. “I thought—” his low voice broke off, uncertain as to where his words going as he wasn’t sure where they had begun.
Then, again, he his deep voice tried, “I don’t know why you left…but I missed you.” He shifted, uncertain. He was no colt any longer, no more there to be swayed by her teachings. But he still wanted her there. An ear cast sideways, “I told my mother about you—I don't think she understands.” His voice grew softer, blue gaze glancing towards the green carpet at her hooves as he remembered Rexanna’s angry shadowed face and flicker of ears. A sigh pushed out his nostrils as he fell silent… waiting, wanting.
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