He isn’t used to being around children, but he remembers vividly his time as a yearling and how most of that time was spent glued to his twin sister’s side, making sure that she was safe and well. He could feel that sense of protection coming back to him, familiarly pricking at his insides – a recognizable instinct; distant, but involuntary. He hesitates at first, his bright blue eyes still shifting uneasily for any sign of a parent while cobalt nostrils flare hopefully to inhale a scent of a Sylvian horse to claim the child.
The tiny filly doesn’t seem to be as concerned or worried as Warrick was. The child opens one eye listlessly, calmly watching him with an expression that could only be seen as disappointment. Warrick’s blue-tipped ears flip back slightly as he dips his head in an apology. He pauses. Should he even be sorry for waking an obviously lost or abandoned child? Oh, never mind that now.
Warrick notices the dried and brown grass clinging to her small frame, his brilliant blue eyes watching curiously as she struggles to find her balance and stand. The girl is unruffled as she prepares to speak to who had dared wake her from her slumber, yawning casually as she surveys him. Warrick draws his head back slightly in response, his gaze shifting uncertainly. “Me? Lost?” His voice is inviting and warm (as it was always) as he eyes the young stranger, tossing his head to emphasize his surprise.
It seems that she did not know where she was when she laid her head on Tephra’s green (rather, once was green) grasses. He can’t help but find a smile pulling at his navy lips as he lowers his head slightly to be at eye-level with the auburn filly.
“How are you so sure that you aren’t the one who is lost?”
warrick