Welcome to Gaia! ::

When Orin left his home that morning, he had no idea what he’d be stepping into later that afternoon. The day had gone by like any other. Picking apples and oranges in preparation for the annual market they were to attend. Typical. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary to denote. And then…and then he’d decided to take a break and head back to his family’s dwelling. From the instant he stepped hoof inside, gone was the preconceived notion that the day would be mundane. His first inkling of something being different should’ve been the raised voices. He’d registered the noise on some level, but he’d been too caught up in his own daydreaming at that point to where he’d simply ignored it. He probably should’ve paid better attention. Because now he was an unwitting audience to a budding feud between his familiar and his familiar’s current love.

The stallion had only just entered, yet he knew already that his friend had screwed up. Gone were the halcyon days of bliss the two love birds seemingly shared. If the doggerel spewing from the female’s beak was anything to go by, then those days were not simply gone but dead and buried. Her words ricocheted around the space like a weapon. Not merely sharp and cutting but intensely scalding, leaving no room for hopeful interpretation. Orin wondered what had happened to make her so angry. She called him such a wide range of names from “the bane of my existence” to a “playbird wannabe with a draconic sense of self-importance.” It was quite the verbal lashing, if he were being honest. What could’ve caused the besotted pair’s relationship to rupture so swiftly and vibrantly? He both wanted to ask her yet feared interrupting the tirade.

No, he decided, it was best to remain on the sidelines. After all, he didn’t want to contribute to her ire. His familiar’s pride might be in tatters, but his was still intact and he wanted to keep it that way. Thus, he did what any self-respecting stallion would do…he left the premises as quickly as a feline might. He wasn’t completely unnoticed, however, so he hastily grabbed a disused basket on his way out, muttering an excuse about needing to mend it before the market, and made his escape. If he heard one of them yell “Coward!” after him, then so be it, at least he was a free coward.

FIN

WC: 404