[SRP] Home. Our story. (Ba-kho-je & Anaba)

[Shesha Sama]

Ba-kho-je stared at the sky, his eyes scanning the clouds for those subtle shifts of light that proceed oncoming snow. He wasn't sure if he was simply seeing a shimmering shadow caused by sparkling snowflakes passing through beams of sun too far for his eye to make out, or if there was some truth to his thoughts, but he knew that when the light shone just so... snow would fall.
Winter had come, and the land had cooled. Snow came and went, though the air remained cold and grey.

His mate made the pilgrimage 'home' once a season, to see her two-legged care-takers that had raised her from birth, and then set her free to be among her own kind. He still remembered when they had first met, and his heart warmed at the thought.
It had been incredible, to see two-leggeds and Soquili-kind living in such harmony. To see a mare, so light-hearted and pure, interact with the beings with such kindness and devotion.
She was breath-taking.
And he was fascinated.

Ba-kho-je glanced back down at the land around him, scanning the horizon lines for her beloved form. She should be coming home soon.

 

[Shesha Sama]

A light smile touched Anaba's face as she trotted towards her second home with Ba-kho-je. They had settled in a quiet little meadow surrounded by mountains and stream- a perfect, quiet spot to spend many happy days and perhaps, one day, raise a family.
Her heart stirred warmly at the thought.

She had met the stallion on a spring day, lingering at the outskirts of her first home- that with the two-leggeds who raised her- watching as she played with the two-leggeds in that game of communication they liked to practice. Moving as they did, as asked, watching the patterns of their body language to understand what was being asked of her and moving in kind.
Her favorite, a male with a gentle touch who had grown as she had, but a colt himself when she first arrived, had grown into a strong and sturdy helper with a great love of horses. It was he, truth be told, whom she visited, though she adored seeing all those who had groomed and cared for her through the years.
She and her favorite two-legger had developed their own means of communicating, a two-way streak unlike the mixed verbal and pressure cues that the others used. He spoke with his eyes, and his hands, and his body- much as a Soquili would, but without spoken word in their language. She, in turn, communicated with her tail twitches and head posture, her hooves and her gentle snorts and whuffs of air. Perhaps he was simply more perceptive to the body language of horses, or perhaps she just liked him at first because they grew up together and he preferred to sleep outdoors and always shared his apples and other treats. But they had shared a special bond.
A bond that could not be broken, even when others formed.

Her pace quickened at the thought of her beloved, the second male (this time, of her own species) who had ever truly held a special place in her heart.
Ba-kho-je, whose name meant grey snow. She had thought of him, once, as a shadow. The kind that lingered in the corner of your eye and retreated to the woods once spotted, but would come forth when beckoned with a warm and open heart.
She had spotted him the first time while playing with the local two-leggeds colts and fillies while their parents worked in basket-weaving and other such pursuits. He had simply watched, and faded away.
She saw him the second time while playing with her first-favorite, and had subtly noticed the awe and admiration of the feathered stallion as he took a few steps away from his cover to get a better look.
Her gentle whuff of greeting had alerted her favorite to the presence of this strange stallion, and he had started to move forward with a gentle hand outstretched before the stallion retreated.
It took some time to build trust, with she acting as ambassador between the two races, but eventually... he and him were able to greet each other, standing close without fear.

Her smile grew wider at the memory.
It was, perhaps, one of her favorite times.

Even so, she cherished many more memories- her first ventures from the village without a two-legged upon her back, guided not by their will but by purely her own curiosity and the light laughter of Ba-kho-je trailing back to her on the wind- so much that she, with an aching heart, had decided to leave the village and try to be... just, her.
Not her favorite's most-cherished friend, not the sweet pretty mare who the children loved to play around and near, but Anaba... free, making her own choices all the time and never putting aside her own pleasures to appease someone else's intentions for her that day.
She didn't mind, truly, when her favorite wished to play or ride- he always listened, and never pushed her too far when they cantered across the lands or got frustrated when she failed to solve a complex puzzle of requested movement- unlike his older brother, his father, unlike some of the others there.
Though all were alright, and she had never known violence at their hand, she did not much care for raised voices and irate movements. So tuned was she to watch the subtle play of a two-legged's body, that such irate gestures caused her extreme discomfort and felt like angry shouts.
Sometimes, a two-legged takes it out on their four-legged friend when they can't get what they want- fancy strides, grand salutes, whatever they devised in their mind's eye that failed to translate- on the first try.
Not all had the patience of her favorite.
He had been her champion, to be sure, and had stood between her and the other whenever necessary.
But he was not always around, for as he aged he had other responsibilities and began to build a life for himself there outside his family's home.
He could not just play with her all day.
She sighed wistfully. Would that he could have, but... then she would have never fallen in love with the shadow stallion who finally began to trust... and with whom she created their own memories, found a new place to live.
And who could understand why she would go back, even if not all memories were good.
A single bad event could not sour the gratitude she felt for many years of care and gentle touch.
And, truth be told, she may never have left if her favorite had not come with them one day, dismounted when she and the dark stallion with shining kind eyes entered a little clearing with a waterfall... and walked home alone.
She had been confused, a little, when he touched her shoulder to ask her to still and had dismounted- did he need to relieve himself? that's fine, but she did so wish to go see if the water was as sweet as it smelled- and even more so when he held his face close to hers and withdrew.
He was saying goodbye. Perhaps he had seen that he did not have time for her, that others were taking her and treating her not as kindly as he did, that he needed... perhaps, that he needed his own space and time, to know that she was safe and well, to build his own family.
He was of an age, to be sure.
She took a quiet breath and slowed to a walk. She was nearing her free-home, and should see her shadow-lover soon.
She could not have made this journey without her favorite's silent and lovingly expressed support.
It did not take once, but a few times, of these gestures and this encouragement for her to truly understand his message and accept her new future without a flicker of worry or doubt. She had not trusted, at first, how free and open and alive she felt when just moving on her own. With him, the stallion who showed her a different way to live.
She liked her kindly-offered puzzles, her communication games and being around the foals, but being away from it all. Being under open ground without a made structure in sight, without the constant stir of noise and murmur of voices she could not understand, with sweet grass and wild fruit and no worry of who would come to her paddock that day... it was so simple, and pure, a quiet life filled with such wonder that she found herself a more peaceful being.
Away from home. Building a new one.
With him.

Her eyes touched upon a shadowy figure in the distance, and her heart soared. My dear one.
She raised her voice in greeting, a quiet whinny that nonetheless carried well over the ground.
I'm home.
 

[Shesha Sama]

Ba-kho-je's ears perked at the familiar sound, and he lifted one front leg as he narrowed in on the tone- there.
He took off, pushing gently on the ground so as not to tear the grass and then gaining momentum as he found more solid footing.

The arrowhead on its leather thong settled closer against his chest, and he smiled as he called back to his beloved.
Welcome home.

The two-legged male that had been particularly fond of Anaba had approached him at their meeting place, alone. Ba-kho-je had admired the interactions between Soquili and two-leggeds that he saw in that little village, but he didn't particularly like when they turned their attentions to him.
It didn't feel right, let alone familiar, when they had tried to harness him.
So he stayed at a distance, and they admired him from afar.
And he grew closer to the mare who moved so freely with them, and he grew closer to the two-legged who accompanied them on some journeys from the village.
So, that day, when the two-legged male approached alone- without the mare who held them together- he was a little curious and suspicious.
Had something happened? Was everything alright?
He had scanned the male of another species for any sign of distress, but seen none- he seemed calm, and somehow... sure.

Ba-kho-je raced towards Anaba as he remembered that special day.
The day when, he felt, the care of this lovely mare was passed from one to another without a word spoken. After all, he did not share his beloved's gift of reading the delicate communication between species, though he did know enough to tell distress from calm.
When the two-legged male had held out the arrowhead on its leather thong- something that seemed somehow complete in itself, lacking the pulls and strings and shiny metal rod that the lead-things the others had tried to place on him had- he stood calmly.
And received a token that clearly had special meaning to the warrior.
A piece of his own heart. A promise to protect, to watch over, to care for as deeply as they could.
And a gesture of trust exchanged between them.

That cherished mare.
She had shown him a different way to live, one in which she was content in most respects, and yet their shared passion for the pure simplicity and freedom of what he felt was the standard way of life for their kind was something that brought them closer so much quicker than shared experience otherwise could. He honestly felt that theirs was a connection of kindred souls, more so than mere attraction or fascination.
Theirs was a deep bond, one that was formed from unspoken mutual understanding of selves and not just ways of being.

He slowed as he approached her, eager to welcome her home.