She was there with him. He was by himself, but she was there with him. He'd grabbed her unconscious body almost by pure instinct. Maybe to have something to hold on to, maybe to try to protect her. He didn't know for sure at that point, he probably hadn't known when grabbing her either. She was there, alive, still unconscious and shivering, and they were alone. No one else in sight.
It would have been laughably easy for him to kill her right there. He looked at her, the way her head rested over the ground, her blonde mane splayed out underneath it. Just a moment. Just a flick of his horn. He could snap her neck, even through her muscles, or he could choke her. He'd seen what she could do, it would be a significant loss for their side.
Or he could abandon her. Walk away and not look back. Walk his way to his freedom, if he didn't run into any more of them. Leave her there for the elements to take. Better yet, he could take her prisoner. Bring her with him, take her to his comrades, use her as a bargaining chip against the enemy. If he ran into more of them on the way, use her life as a shield, force them to comply under threat of hurting her. It would be easy.
He looked at the scar on his underside, where the crystal had struck him. The wound wouldn't normally have become a scar so quickly, but that it had even left a mark at all was a testament to how bad things could have been if he hadn't been helped. Because they'd done that. They'd saved him, and they'd healed him. Brought him to the one his Queen had humiliated and tortured, and she'd healed his wounds after her soldier had saved his life.
He didn't know if he still had comrades out there. He recognised, to a degree, what had almost happened to him. Had she done it to everyone else, or had he just been the closest one? He couldn't tell. Was he willing to risk it? But the alternative was living as a prisoner. What if he ran first into soldiers from his side, what would he do then? He looked over the mare again.
She reminded him of someone. Someone he wasn't sure he'd get to see again. He told himself that was why he wasn't going to hurt her. He told himself that as he picked up her body and placed it onto his back with his magic, and as he began to walk, not sure of what direction he was going in. He had nothing to gain from harming her anyway, he told himself. He looked around, and felt unease shivering up his back as he saw the pool of blackness spreading over the ground like ink spilt on a page shortly after he'd started to walk. But he did head towards the source. He figured if everyone did, he'd run into someone that way. And maybe, he figured, being free wasn't worth the price of being alone, not there and then at least.