Eyes squeezed shut, the stallion stood atop the grassy knoll trying to recall some part of his long lost childhood. Everything was concealed in a fog and he couldn’t seem to remember how his mother acted around him. Snorting in frustration he opened his emerald eyes and stared towards the sky. It was likely that he was going to fail in the roll of a father. He hadn’t any idea as to how a parent was supposed to act towards a younger being. The only experience he had was that of training yearlings to go to combat, he knew that didn’t qualify him in any way. If they cried or broke under pressure it was his job to push them further or pick their sorry carcasses off of the floor. He was neither gentle nor nurturing in his ways. Stamping his right foreleg he watched as a cloud of dust was lifted from the spot. The steel on his breast clanged as it normally did, reminding him of who he was. Callan had never intended on being a parent but when he met Bella, something changed. He again recalled the look in her eyes, the way she seemed to glow and the tone of her voice as she told him he was to be a father. Rather than kicking up with absolute pleasure he backed away in fear. There were two ways for one to live, alone or with a family. It had been his fate to live alone for eternity…but now…
He envisioned two helpless little foals loping around, laughing and playing with one another. They looked so pure and innocent, so unlike their father. His heart began to race as he thought of one of them falling. What was he supposed to do when one of his babies were crying? Was he supposed to tell them to suck it up and move on? No. Was he supposed to ignore them and hope they would pick themselves up off of the ground? No. None of these suggestions fit the scenario, but, he still couldn’t think of anything better. He couldn’t leave the rearing of the foals solely up to Bella. If he were to do that he would be no better than his heartless father. Tossing his head he tried to push any thoughts of his father from his mind. He was such a withholding stallion, what would happen if his children asked him about his life? Would he merely turn his back on them and cop an attitude like he normally did? That couldn’t be right.
“Damn!” He cursed beneath his breath.
If only he had taken the time to associate himself with beings who were not exclusively meant to kill. Perhaps if he had, just once, gone up to one of those colts who constantly stared at his armor and might. He may have learned a thing or two about living if he wasn’t so hell bent on dieing. Lowering his head he stared intently at the ground as his thoughts began to make him dizzy. There were a lot of what if’s floating around his conscience, nothing that would help though. He was seemingly all alone in this struggle.
