![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I've been thinking about the turn of the year, and this came along : a little snippet of an epilogue for my centaurs.
*****
The solstice night had come quickly. His wounds had healed up, and Matthias had gone from letting him hop-skip around the warehouse to ordering him to swim and to walk and to run. He was full sound now, or as near as could have been hoped for.
When the indeterminate grey finally gave way to full dark – all of about four in the afternoon – Pet took a good solid grasp of the torch, and held it down low, where Matthias could light it, and then the two of them together had walked the boundaries of his land – of their land. The new herd's land. Slow and solemn, and then, after they had set the bonfire alight, fast and frantic, hooves on the hard frozen earth, and Matthias' voice teasing and urging him on. And they'd raised a cup, and shared symbolic food, along with the pizza, and now Pet was watching the fire.
It must be getting on towards dawn, the fire burning right down, the supply of wood almost exhausted. Beside him, pressed together, haunch to flank, Matthias was dozing, knees locked upright, arms folded. Pet couldn't sleep though. Couldn't rest for thinking of what had been, only twelve long months before, and what might be.
Wasn't his job, strictly speaking, to be worrying about what might be, but Pet wasn't much of one for rules.
There was a plan for the business, now, and a plan set out to keep his bad leg from seizing up, and one to keep him off the booze. There was a plan that Pet was almost certain Matthias was still thinking about, that just plain terrified Pet, which would mean going back, and fighting a bunch of fights that Pet wasn't sure he wanted to get into.
So maybe that was Pet's resolution, the idea he was planting here in the darkness, that would grow strong as the year's sun grew stronger. Pet was resolved to keep Matthias from getting his fool self killed.
He surely meant that with all his heart, unlike the promises he hadn't quite given about the cigarettes.
*****
The solstice night had come quickly. His wounds had healed up, and Matthias had gone from letting him hop-skip around the warehouse to ordering him to swim and to walk and to run. He was full sound now, or as near as could have been hoped for.
When the indeterminate grey finally gave way to full dark – all of about four in the afternoon – Pet took a good solid grasp of the torch, and held it down low, where Matthias could light it, and then the two of them together had walked the boundaries of his land – of their land. The new herd's land. Slow and solemn, and then, after they had set the bonfire alight, fast and frantic, hooves on the hard frozen earth, and Matthias' voice teasing and urging him on. And they'd raised a cup, and shared symbolic food, along with the pizza, and now Pet was watching the fire.
It must be getting on towards dawn, the fire burning right down, the supply of wood almost exhausted. Beside him, pressed together, haunch to flank, Matthias was dozing, knees locked upright, arms folded. Pet couldn't sleep though. Couldn't rest for thinking of what had been, only twelve long months before, and what might be.
Wasn't his job, strictly speaking, to be worrying about what might be, but Pet wasn't much of one for rules.
There was a plan for the business, now, and a plan set out to keep his bad leg from seizing up, and one to keep him off the booze. There was a plan that Pet was almost certain Matthias was still thinking about, that just plain terrified Pet, which would mean going back, and fighting a bunch of fights that Pet wasn't sure he wanted to get into.
So maybe that was Pet's resolution, the idea he was planting here in the darkness, that would grow strong as the year's sun grew stronger. Pet was resolved to keep Matthias from getting his fool self killed.
He surely meant that with all his heart, unlike the promises he hadn't quite given about the cigarettes.
Tags: