When had Jeremy last exhaled? It did not seem that long ago, but the burning sensation in his lungs told him otherwise. He refused to let himself give in, for fear of making some noise and startling the mare. But his eyes began to water, his extended arm shook weakly, the apple with it. When his vision began to blur, Jeremy realised that he needed to start breathing again or risk fainting.
Slowly, he allowed his lips to pucker and the Kelvic finally breathed out. Like a half-drowned man, his body lurged and he spluttered minutely, and subsequently froze. The horse made a low sound, stepping to the side and away from him.
Jeremy did not start moving again until he had finally got himself together. Cursing himself under his breath, he started his slow process once more. Step, pause, step, pause. He measured his breathing in ticks, slow and steady and ensuring he didn't make the same idiotic mistake again.
And yet Jeremy soon lost himself once more in the job. The desire to help this horse was second only to his need to do Caiyha proud. Soon the only two things that existed in the entire world were he and the mare, separated by a mere four or so feet. Everything else melted away. The seas could have swallowed up Syliras for all Jeremy knew. For all he cared, either. Only the mare mattered to him; his very existence depended on her wellness.
She moved sharply, half-rearing on her hind legs to avoid Jeremy's outreaching hand. But as she moved to the side, his fingertips brushed her flank.
The effect on horse and man was immediate and obvious. Jeremy inhaled sharply, his entire body tensing as his mind wasflooded with the mare's memories. Whips. Punches. Taunts. Kicks. Food being held towards her and then snatched away. Dogs trained to nip at her legs and hooves. Pieces of metal held over a fire before being streaked along her back. And, in the background of all these images, laughter. Male human voices laughing and saying things like piece of shit and dumb animal and even whore. In less than a tick, Jeremy understood exactly why this animal was so scared. Her whole life, her existence, had been limited to the cruelty she'd suffered. He saw their faces as well, but did not recognise them. Thankfully.
For the mare, the experience was quite different. The messages and emotions Jeremy conveyed did not compute with her previous experiences. Ideas such as healing and love were unfamiliar to her. Hands only bought pain, and yet here were two that were in some way comforting. His narrow fingers traced a circle in her coat, and the mare felt her own fear beginning to melt away.
The two of them broke the physical contact at the same time, each overwhelmed by what had just happened. Jeremy staggered back to Tanna, to the gate, like a drunk man. He'd felt and seen more torture and pain than he had ever expected.
He reached out with both hands, clasping Tanna by the arms in a desperate way. She was suddenly an island to him, and Jeremy was drowning in the pain and hurt of another creature. He willed the messages to be passed onto the woman; he couldn't take the burden alone and yet nor could he vocalise them. Putting what he had just learnt into words would not do the mare justice.
But alas, he found his own memory shut tight, like a padlocked door. Nura was the language of plants and animals, not man and woman. He blinked and slowly retracted his hands from Tanna's arm. Numbly, he said, "she has been hurt." His voice was ragged. "But come with me, to this side."
Slowly, he allowed his lips to pucker and the Kelvic finally breathed out. Like a half-drowned man, his body lurged and he spluttered minutely, and subsequently froze. The horse made a low sound, stepping to the side and away from him.
Jeremy did not start moving again until he had finally got himself together. Cursing himself under his breath, he started his slow process once more. Step, pause, step, pause. He measured his breathing in ticks, slow and steady and ensuring he didn't make the same idiotic mistake again.
And yet Jeremy soon lost himself once more in the job. The desire to help this horse was second only to his need to do Caiyha proud. Soon the only two things that existed in the entire world were he and the mare, separated by a mere four or so feet. Everything else melted away. The seas could have swallowed up Syliras for all Jeremy knew. For all he cared, either. Only the mare mattered to him; his very existence depended on her wellness.
She moved sharply, half-rearing on her hind legs to avoid Jeremy's outreaching hand. But as she moved to the side, his fingertips brushed her flank.
The effect on horse and man was immediate and obvious. Jeremy inhaled sharply, his entire body tensing as his mind wasflooded with the mare's memories. Whips. Punches. Taunts. Kicks. Food being held towards her and then snatched away. Dogs trained to nip at her legs and hooves. Pieces of metal held over a fire before being streaked along her back. And, in the background of all these images, laughter. Male human voices laughing and saying things like piece of shit and dumb animal and even whore. In less than a tick, Jeremy understood exactly why this animal was so scared. Her whole life, her existence, had been limited to the cruelty she'd suffered. He saw their faces as well, but did not recognise them. Thankfully.
For the mare, the experience was quite different. The messages and emotions Jeremy conveyed did not compute with her previous experiences. Ideas such as healing and love were unfamiliar to her. Hands only bought pain, and yet here were two that were in some way comforting. His narrow fingers traced a circle in her coat, and the mare felt her own fear beginning to melt away.
The two of them broke the physical contact at the same time, each overwhelmed by what had just happened. Jeremy staggered back to Tanna, to the gate, like a drunk man. He'd felt and seen more torture and pain than he had ever expected.
He reached out with both hands, clasping Tanna by the arms in a desperate way. She was suddenly an island to him, and Jeremy was drowning in the pain and hurt of another creature. He willed the messages to be passed onto the woman; he couldn't take the burden alone and yet nor could he vocalise them. Putting what he had just learnt into words would not do the mare justice.
