When he faltered, they left him behind. He watched them with a gaze of iron, as they disappeared over the horizon.

When he found them many moons later in the heart of the swamp, he enjoyed their surprise.

He never yelled or made a scene. When pushed, he fell back. When shoved, he gave ground. He reacted not to insult or accusation. He was solid, untouchable. He was like was like a mountain, they said. Unmovable.

Then one day someone shoved too hard. Like a mountain turned to fire, he exploded. His hidden rage bubbled forth. His violence was swift and unexpected, his bellow of fury heard across the valley.

When the dust had settled, he stood quietly, as calm as he had ever been and stepped away from the shattered source of his anger.

Beware, the others whispered to each other, beware that hidden rage.

She watched over the lambs and the foals, protecting them from all harm. When they were safe, she laughed and played. When they were threatened she gave a roar and rushed to their defence, heedless of her own safety. She was brave and strong and true and The Mothers Club called her Lionhearted.

He danced for her.

Wings spread wide, kicking up sand, bright colours shimmering in the sun, back and forth, back and forth, every second demanding,
watch me

---

honestly, basically this -

Nothing lasts forever.
It all crumbles into dust.

(Just imagine her image except it’s a gif and she turns to dust like she got snapped)

He was clever from a young age and entirely too eager to let everyone in the tribe know. ‘It looks like you need help’, ‘I know how you can do that better’ and ‘you’re doing that wrong’ were all phrases he uttered with maddening frequency.

But as he grew older, he learnt restraint and patience, and the value of silence. Enough to let others come to him for advice when they needed it.

‘I’m going to ask Adviser,’ someone said one day as they struggled to come up with a solution to a problem. The title stuck and he was named.

he blinks in the night
tired, bleary
a red-eye stares back
he blinks again
it's gone
his eyes hurt
the edges are burning
if only he could sleep
but danger is close
one, two
his eyes fall close
something breathes
his eyes snap open
don't sleep
stay awake
red-eye watches

swim, swim, swim
little minnow
big world
big enemies
don't worry
this time
you are faster

She chose to abandon all hope a long time ago

Her sorrow is a heavy burden to bear

Surely I’m not the suspect?

"There will be," she chokes on the words, bile in her throat, "no more suffering."

And so she takes their lives in her jaws to end it quick.

He wriggles in the dirt, moving inch by inch.
He wants to go further, but alas,
he is legless.

The world burns with his anger.

Every leaf, every twigs, every rock, every tree, every creature.

He will incinerate it all.

The sky is her ocean.
She swims above the world, lazily drifting.
When she dips her head, she drinks the clouds.
They fill her, carrying her ever onward.