Her voice, that sound, it brought him back to a time before the world was ever filled with hatred or pain—before her love had been stolen away, divided amongst others, and before anyone existed outside of him, her, and his siblings. They’d been raised in seclusion, kept apart from the rest of the world. He’d been taught who and what he was. He’d never found need to question his existence. And then others had come, shattering his happiness. Jealousy was invoked.
She was his. He couldn’t exist without her. Inexplicably, he was drawn to her side, seeking to brush noses, and to push his muzzle into her mane, smelling the familiar, warm scent that invoked such soft, sickening feelings within him. He was evaporating. There was nothing horrible in the world when she was around. He whined softly in return, almost inaudibly.