Page 195 of Knotting the Firefighters
He can't say it.
Can't articulate the relationship that still exists between them.
Can't admit Calder abandoning him specifically hurts more than the rest of us doing it.
Calder's laugh floats back—bright and genuinely amused, clear enjoyment at Aidric's distress.
"Only this one occasion!" he calls without slowing. "But hurry your ass up if you don't want to be left completely behind!"
Permission.
Granting permission for Aidric to catch up.
While making him work for it.
Perfect balance of teasing and inclusion.
Aidric groans—sound carrying frustration and acceptance, recognition that he's been outmaneuvered by collective coordination he didn't anticipate.
He grips the reins with practiced hands, adjusting his position in the saddle before delivering a command that makes his massive stallion immediately responsive.
The whip of reins is controlled rather than harsh—a signal rather than punishment, communication between an experienced rider and a trained mount.
His horse neighs—a powerful sound that speaks to strength and spirit, excitement at finally being permitted movement after patient standing. The stallion launches forward with impressive acceleration, powerful muscles bunching and releasing with each stride.
Magnificent.
Absolutely magnificent.
Both horse and rider moving with synchronized precision that speaks to years of partnership.
The landscape blurs past as we ride—Montana wilderness in full autumn glory, leaves turning spectacular colors, mountains providing a dramatic backdrop that justifies every tourism brochure ever printed.
This is freedom.
Actual freedom.
Not just absence of constraint but presence of joy.
The wind whips through my hair, cool air burning my lungs in ways that feel cleansing rather than painful. My horse responds to minimal cues, is clearly well-trained, and responsive to experienced riders.
I'm good at this.
Forgot how much I enjoyed this.
How long since I allowed myself pleasure that wasn't productive or professional?
Bear and Silas flank me loosely—protective formation without being restrictive, clearly monitoring my position while allowing autonomy. Their horses move with ground-covering strides that suggest endurance rather than pure speed.
Calder rides slightly ahead—natural leader position, his mare setting the pace that others follow. His posture is relaxed, confident, completely at home in this environment in ways that reveal yet another layer of his complex personality.
He belongs here.
Not just capable but genuinely comfortable.
California Alpha with Montana soul.
Aidric charges from behind—his stallion's longer stride allowing him to close the distance rapidly, thunder of hooves announcing his approach before he comes into view.
