The two horses, one a deep chestnut, one a bright bay, stand nearby, quietly cropping the grass, as their riders stand on the edge of the cliff, hands clasped together as together they watch the beautiful Hylian sunset, casting shadows across the landscape, and dying the sky a fiery red . The light reflects in his bright cerulean eyes, the colour the summer sky had been just an hour ago, as he gazes into hers, as blue as Lake Hylia and equally deep.
He raises a gloved hand to touch her cheek. The leather is rough, but she knows the skin beneath is equally calloused and scarred from many long battles with the trusty blade that hangs at his back. She closes her eyes at his touch, as he softly tilts her face towards his. Their lips touch, and as the last rays of the setting sun disappear behind the trees that line the horizon, she wraps her arms around his neck and clings closer to him, as his hands run down her back and settle at her waist.
Neither knows how long they stand there in each others arms, lost to each other. Their tongues dance together like sparks from a fire, and sparks are what dance through their bodies as the moon rises behind them. Eventually she pulls reluctantly away and looks up at the moon. They must return, to her waiting father, to the ranch which both now call home. They walk back down the mountain in companionable silence, back to their waiting horses. She goes to mount the bay, but to her surprise he stops her, and hands her the reins of the chestnut. She smiles in gratitude, as she mounts her old friend. Startled by the unfamiliar weight on her back, or perhaps just in acknowledgement, the beautiful steed rears up. He watches in awe as she stays firmly in the saddle, auburn hair streaming out behind her. In the dim light of dusk, horse and rider seem to glow with their own fire that stems from the fierce determination that shines in her eyes, and he is filled with an emotion he cannot put a name to, but that threatens to spill over out of him it fills him so completely.
Horse under control she looks at him curiously, wonders why he hasnít mounted the gentle bay that waits patiently for his rider. He closes his eyes as the feeling passes, and hoists himself into the saddle. A sudden mischief shines in her eyes, and she grabs the green hat from his head and gallops away. With a shout of indignation and laughter he spurs his horse after her, revelling in the unfamiliar feeling of the wind in his hair, for once not covered by his hat. He chases her over the moonlit fields, both of them laughing and taunting the other, her always just ahead, just out of reach on the faster horse.
She slows down as they near the ranch, and finally he catches up with her. Both dismount and she throws back his hat, which he catches but doesnít replace just yet. Together they walk slowly into the ranch, leading their horses. She pauses at the door to the farmhouse, and turns to him. He can see the moon in her eyes as she gently pushes his golden hair from his eyes and gently kisses him once more, as his hands run through her hair. She smiles as it ends and he takes her horse from her, as she murmurs a goodnight and turns into the house. He leads the horses to the stable where he sleeps to the sound of shuffling animals. He can still taste her on his lips.
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