in my field of paper flowers; any

[Jason]

They stand parallel as stark contrasts to each other. Jason with his pristinely kept blue coat and shimmering, almost translucent mane stands out like a sore thumb amongst the growing trees and rotting underbrush. The mare on the other hand folds into the backdrop. Jason recognizes the twigs and brush woven into her mane as unintentional remnants of her trip to the Gates. The blood and the confusion- those two Jason could not be certain of their source. The mare speaks, and Jason leans his head forward with ears directed toward her. Her voice is quiet yet intriguing. He wants to know her story, and it is almost given to him in her name. Jason returns the smile although it isn’t completely out of sincerity. Part of its joy had been replaced with concern- concern for all the blood, for the pain. The mare pauses again, and Jason takes this opportunity to step closer to her. He gazes over her body and the wounds that covered it. It was good that she stumbled into the gates and not another territory. It was good that she came to him. Jason closed in with hope that the mare would not step away. ”Nice to meet you, Reuen.” He spoke quiet, delicately. His nose slowly outstretched toward one of her wounds, and he attempted to touch her for just a moment. If successful in touch he hoped to dull the pain with his magic- even heal the edge of the wound that he touched. ”Where do you come from, Reuen? Can I help the pain stop….?” jason magical son of eol and ashling