maybe tomorrow || any

[Bastille]

it's got to get easier somehow

"Krone." He echoed, testing her name on his own lips. It was unique, much as her coloring and the appendages that draped her back. She was a bird within another form, he mused. Perhaps shock would have been a good reaction to her visual affects, but he had learned that this life would never stop surprising him. He shifted, feeling somewhat uneasy about the fact that he hadn't minded his eagerness in such a hasty approach. He didn't want to startle her or make her feel as if she needed to safeguard herself from him. He had simply gone so long in his own company, that the idea of someone else keeping to themselves made him quite excited at the idea of joining them. Was it as asinine an idea as it sounded now that he was thinking it? Yes. Yet, one could not undo what they had done. Thus, he was fully committed to the notion of at least spending a moment of his time in conversation with such unique companion.

"I had hoped not." He offered with a slightly embarrassed grin, relief cooling the tightness of his nerves. He turned, intent on pointing the desert out to her in response to her question. Realization struck him, however, that the desert and the path he had trekked were nowhere to be seen. He had truly wandered farther than he'd originally thought. For a moment panic seized him. His muscles tightened and his jaw clenched, his own anger at his nativity in coming to this land, physically changing his disposition. It was hard for a creature such as himself to feel anger. That had to be the reason it dissipated so quickly. His form relaxed and he found himself offering to her a chuckle. "I might have shown you my homeland, had I not lost the path that I left it on. My home was the desert." Turning back to her, his blue eyes searched for some notion that she was not going to tell him to go back where he had come from. "Are you native to these lands, Krone?" He spoke questioningly and quietly, testing her name out twice on his accent with some bemusement for how it rolled off the tongue.

She was the first equine he'd met in these lands and he wasn't at all certain of the kind of welcoming outsiders or newcomers received. He inhaled the scents around him, nostrils flaring to take in the aroma of the land and those within in. Recognition struck that this land was not claimed by one creature, but was that of a common area. There were far too many scents for one creature to have laid claim to it. Her own scent was far strong than the rest; the heady mixture of estrogen and that singular perfume each creature kept unique to themselves, reminding him just how far he was from his desert home. There were mares there, of course. She was not the first he'd ever come across. He, however, did a fine job of avoiding them and the stallions that trailed sniffing at their backs with lust filled irises. Yes, hers was a unique scent in that it did not smell of cactus flower or desert rose. It smelled somehow of salt and wood, sand and the crisp morning air mixed together. He found himself oddly comforted by it.

Bastille

@[Krone] Thank you. I'm rusty, but I think this one is a little better. lol