He woke in pain. Pain that brought no pleasure, pain that gave no strength, no fuel. It was weakness, blood drained and leaving nothing but a shell of what he was. Sleep had been the type that held no dreams, no movement. Eyes opened to find he had still lie on his side, long claw given wounds up towards the humid summer air. He had tried to clean them, and still they stung. Waking, the male found strength to shift. He let his voice rise from his throat, raspy and ragged, in a painful groan. Gold eyes looked to the dark tones hand that held his side. The wound began to weep again. He knew of a stream, and walked slowly to it. The cold water rinsed the dried blood from his pelt, refreshing him. He found it hard to think about the days before, about the fight and the female that had almost taken his life. Heath pushed through the pain and found the images, and replayed the memories. It had been his ignorance that had set his fate and given the wounds that would certainly scar. Scars he had once wanted, lines that would memorialize his battles. He didn’t want to remember this, and for one of the very few times in his short like the morte dre Soul male was full of regret.

The sun could hardly be seen. And its tendrils of light brought a warm glow to the indigo sky. The cold water made the pain lessen, and he stretched along the bank of the slow moving creek, eyes closed and wishing. He hoped to live, and he hoped for death, just as he had asked for it from the pack wolf. Death would be easier, though his wounds were no longer life threatening, it still would be easier then living with the emptiness that he could no longer ignore. It wouldn’t stay hidden, as if the pain and blood had drawn it out of its hiding place. The things he had tried to fill the void were gone. His attempt of a violent life, a rogue’s existence was gone. And he was left with nothing, and wanted more then ever to fill it. He shifted on the grass, cringing as he moved. His breathing slowed, and sleep crept into the edges of his thoughts. He fought it, feeling the answer to his dire question just beyond this state of mind. But his tired form had no strength and he fell into the beginning stages of sleep.

Heath did not know how long he was asleep, but in reality only moments had passed. A harsh puff of air forced its way into his face. It felt warm, and his gold eyes opened. The male didn’t move, his body frozen in something he could categorize as neither fear nor surprise. His gaze looked up to see the long face that hovered over him. Her dark face looked down on him, black eyes examining him just as he did her. She had thought he was dead, he supposed. But it was only a moment before she walked passed him and moved to the stream. Heath sat up, holding his side as he did. He watched the beast, and then looked to find that she was not alone. He sat still, but she was the only one that ventured close. The others found the sweet green grass, fed by the weeks of rain, far more intriguing. Améliorez restent loin le cheval He whispered as he cradled his jaw. She looked to him, as if she knew the words he spoke, and wanted to defy them. The bold beast walked towards him, unlike anything her species would react naturally. The male stood with pain, and then saw her eyes.

The black pools looked into him, striking him as hard as the midnight woman had hours before. He saw what he thought he had when speaking to Haven. It was something deeper and more powerful then he could describe. Vous croyez que c'est sûr ? He questioned again, giving her his light hued paw to examine. The mare held her stance, watching him before taking a brave step forward. The crazed beast put her nose in his paw, taking in his scent, as she had no doubt examined his soul through his golden eyes. He smiled, more of a smirk. Why hadn’t the mare run off if she could indeed see further then just the color of his irises? Heath took the chance to stroke her nose, and look at the roan pattern of her coat. Dark indigo covered her face and mane, filtering into a light dappled or merle color and then back to the dark hue at the end of each leg and tail. Vous êtes braves, ou peut-être vous ne savez pas juste. The male stepped back, and the mare followed. She was young, and maybe ignorant, but bold. When she walked passed him slowly Heath found that he was following. Bin au revoir alors He spoke, watching the roan mare leave. Her ears flicked backwards, and Heath almost thought she heard him. She turned to face him, again giving him the look that seemed to alter him. She had something to tell him, he felt it.

The sun was rising, and the light was no longer scarce. The male watched her, standing still and no tension in his form, as she turned to meet him once more. Dites-moi. The boy prayed, asking the beast who showed no fear of him to give him something that she could not know. Parce que je dont sais que faire. He confessed to the silent mare, she did not move towards the herd, who had drifted from where they once stood. He needed the answers, needed to know and the blue roan mare was so bold that Heath could not help but trust the beast. She told him he needed to feel this, to know what trust was and to know what it was to be more then just a single beast. She said it was time, to repair damage that had been inflicted so long ago and find his true self.

Montrez-moi alors la voie. Ma lumière. A calm hand, stronger then he had been before, touched her neck and she accepted him.