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"moth-like stars were filtering out"
in the stables, you help me settle eira's saddle, your hands warm and rough against my own, your hair unbrushed and wild. hefin is already tied to the post outside and already kicking up dust as he waits.
you mention his impatience halfheartedly as you lift me up onto the grey mare. i clutch the saddle horn and watch you saunter back outside.
"he's spirited," i say. i lead eira up beside you.
smiling, you laugh and give hefin a lazy click to start him on the trail. "well, yes. but also very spoiled."
the sky is just beginning to darken, past yellow and orange and now a low purple. soft clouds pass above us in a slow sweep. the half moon shows itself above the trees — i follow your finger to the horizon.
we travel in a near-silence. it's good enough to be with you, to be conscious of our closeness. my boots brush eira's sides as the hill slopes into a meadow. fireflies abandon their grass blades and twirl up into the night sky past us.
"do you remember being fascinated by these when you were younger?" you ask. the insects flutter past you and hefin like tiny jewels.
"i'd put them in jars," i respond.
you give a brisk nod and a grin. i move my hand from my thigh to brush eira's long mane. all the textures of the earth's gifts are here.
before the trail leads to the forest, you pull at hefin's reins and bring him to a stop. i watch you reach for the blanket bundled behind the saddle and wait idly as you unravel and spread it across the grass. i unmount to follow you.
"this is it?" i ask.
"this is it . . ."
there are no trees in the clearing; the sky runs unburdened to the mountains. you bring the horses around to the field and join me on the blanket. we watch them graze, the light breeze tickling their ears, and lay back to look at the clouds.
the stars are pinpoints of light in the murky indigo. you reach up:
"the north star is there."
"where?"
"the very bright one. there."
"i see. and the rest of ursa minor too."
you hum and press closer to me. i bring my fingers to yours and hold them.
we'll wait for the meteor shower and watch it together. afterwards, we will take the horses back to the farm and put them in the stables for the night. you will undress inside, then undress me, and we will talk before we sleep — about the fruit tree growing in the front and the fence i will repair tomorrow. then you will kiss me and i'll curl into you and i'll be safe and at home.
( will i ever be over early 70s robeardo? probably not. an extension of sorts of my thirteenth chapter. thank you shahdg for the idea! )
