01-15-2020, 06:12 PM
There's a thickness in the air between them, the sense of the suspicion suddenly falling heavy on him. And he realized that it might look questionable when a strange stallion came wandering across borderlines. The mistrust in her voice was probably nothing more than common sense.
A moment of hesitation froze his steps. Was it too late to turn back? To claim ignorance and escape back into the twisted labyrinth that was Taiga's thick growth? The thought turned his stomach a bit, enough that he at last stepped forward to follow the tacit guidance of the one who had come across him. The steps are half a beat behind hers, his ears twisting and flicking to capture every nuance of her gait. A distant memory surfaced, the scent of his father by his side, teaching newly born Tyr to navigate the island by sound and touch and scent. Not so different from the way he was being guided now.
The moments of silence gave him time to adjust the length of his stride, to absorb the odors of what armed to be Nerine and the mare who was guiding him. The ground beneath his feet was hard as shell, almost brittle. So very different from the soft carpeting of needles Taiga claimed. They muffled every sound in the forest, a nuisance to someone who needed every auditory clue to guide himself by. The clipping of their hooves seemed almost too loud here by comparison.
They'd gone some ways before she spoke again, as he'd been unwilling to break the silence himself. He'd never been one prone to chatter, not after a life so consumed by isolation. Add to that the fact that he was already suspect here and the dark stallion's lips had remained firmly shut. Her question was not one he would have expected, though. "No. No, of course it doesn't." He began, tone less certain than the words they carried.
The wind caught at him, tugging the tangled locks of his mane and tail with greedy fingers. It smelled sharply of brine and mineral damp. The hungry ocean was near again, and that knowledge gripped him fiercely. It was so similar to Ischia, and yet nothing at all alike. He knew the island he'd been born on was worlds away. Still. It was the same sea that lapped at the sands of the islands that now crashed on the cliffs his guide had so kindly warned him from.
"This is this your home, then? Do you like it?" He asked, confirming what her confident navigation had already told him. It was a hard land, he could feel that in the relentless wind, in the solid earth beneath the layer of snow and ice. He'd found that most horses liked their homes. Lilli, especially, seemed to find a great comfort in belonging to the redwood land. It was a kind of security that had evaded him for a very long time.
@[Neverwhere]
A moment of hesitation froze his steps. Was it too late to turn back? To claim ignorance and escape back into the twisted labyrinth that was Taiga's thick growth? The thought turned his stomach a bit, enough that he at last stepped forward to follow the tacit guidance of the one who had come across him. The steps are half a beat behind hers, his ears twisting and flicking to capture every nuance of her gait. A distant memory surfaced, the scent of his father by his side, teaching newly born Tyr to navigate the island by sound and touch and scent. Not so different from the way he was being guided now.
The moments of silence gave him time to adjust the length of his stride, to absorb the odors of what armed to be Nerine and the mare who was guiding him. The ground beneath his feet was hard as shell, almost brittle. So very different from the soft carpeting of needles Taiga claimed. They muffled every sound in the forest, a nuisance to someone who needed every auditory clue to guide himself by. The clipping of their hooves seemed almost too loud here by comparison.
They'd gone some ways before she spoke again, as he'd been unwilling to break the silence himself. He'd never been one prone to chatter, not after a life so consumed by isolation. Add to that the fact that he was already suspect here and the dark stallion's lips had remained firmly shut. Her question was not one he would have expected, though. "No. No, of course it doesn't." He began, tone less certain than the words they carried.
The wind caught at him, tugging the tangled locks of his mane and tail with greedy fingers. It smelled sharply of brine and mineral damp. The hungry ocean was near again, and that knowledge gripped him fiercely. It was so similar to Ischia, and yet nothing at all alike. He knew the island he'd been born on was worlds away. Still. It was the same sea that lapped at the sands of the islands that now crashed on the cliffs his guide had so kindly warned him from.
"This is this your home, then? Do you like it?" He asked, confirming what her confident navigation had already told him. It was a hard land, he could feel that in the relentless wind, in the solid earth beneath the layer of snow and ice. He'd found that most horses liked their homes. Lilli, especially, seemed to find a great comfort in belonging to the redwood land. It was a kind of security that had evaded him for a very long time.
@[Neverwhere]