The King and I
We’re sitting on a flat, rocky, ledge, above the world. We’ve been sitting here for hours, looking over the domain beneath us, the trees, and the mountains, the streams, and the others. As the clouds roll past, I turn my head to look at him, and see that he is dozing in the sunlight that seeps down on us between the cottony bunches of rain yet to come, which is just fine. We are at peace with the silence between us.
Perhaps hours go by, the wind whipping through our hair, the cold droplets of condensation from the clouds that seem to surround us. I lay over on him, running my cold fingers through his warm fur, feeling his chest rise and fall underneath me. His mane is beautiful and matted, and I begin to comb through it gently. A single one of his brown eyes opens, but he does not move, just looking at me. I notice that he is awake, and smile tiredly at him. Still, we say nothing to each other for a long time, just enjoying the quiet.
Finally, it is I that casually breaks the silence, sighing at the weight of my words, and looking off into the distance at nothing in particular. “What do you suppose it is like, to be truly free?”
“My child, freedom is for the foolish.” He replies, a yawn racking his deep, mellow voice. “To love, is to be tethered to someone, and if we are tethered we are never truly free. Now tell me, my dear one, would you really rather be free?”
“No.” I paused, rolling over to feel his mane on my face, his fur enveloping me like a warm blanket of calm. “I guess not.”