The stallion seems to drift off now, his brown eyes clouded over as he looses himself to thought. Again she is reminded of those demons that seem to haunt him and she wonders at what they might be made of. Its not as if she doesn’t have her own, but she imagines that his are of a different variety. Hers are made of vines and humidity, blood and battle scars, pride and humiliation.
But he comes back to the present and resumes the conversation. Never giving too much information, just enough. She realizes that she has been doing the same thing. Regardless, she smiles and nods in camaraderie. A fellow lost soul trying to find their way.
Suddenly he seems to find his words as they all come gushing out at once. She had feared his rejection but instead got more than what she had bargained for. Born that way? This is something the mare had not considered. Her hawk eyes examine his lip more closely now and notice the lack of scar tissue that was sure to have formed if it had indeed been a wound. He speaks of his weight and she notices this for the first time as well. He does seem a little thin, but not necessarily unhealthy.
“Well you seem healthy otherwise.” The words come out as quiet laughter. Not laughter at him, but at the way he has described himself so condescendingly. “Don’t be so harsh on yourself!” She shakes her feathered head as she laughs, exposing part of the area under her mane where the feathers mingled with the hair, in some spots looking braided together.
She considers his questions. When did she get her talons? Definitely not when she was born. Was it the result of some quest? Some battle? Her smile lessens as she thinks. “I’m not really certain when they appeared. I was born a normal horse, for the most part. The wings came later. And then the feathers sort of took over. Before I knew it, talons instead of hooves.” She regards her own feet as she ponders. “I think it may have been in preparation for some upcoming war or battle, some jungle magic.”
It never occurred to her to fear her companion. He was smaller than her, timid, and self-proclaimed malnourished. But he speaks of a gift from a fairy and now she looks up, curious as to what he could be hiding. A small part of her stiffens as she prepares to assess the potential danger. But he doesn’t elaborate and she is left wondering.
He speaks of fairies again. She had very little experience with the creatures, but he seemed to be familiar with them. “I don’t know much about them except that they are extremely powerful.” She says tentatively. “What did they give you?” She asks almost as carefully since it hadn’t been offered the first time it was mentioned.
With his next question she smiles a sweet, sad smile. “No, I’m alone because of my own misguidance.” Her eyes look past him now as she allows herself a moment of retrospection. It passes quickly and her eyes find him once more as she nonchalantly takes a few steps closer. She smiles, warmly this time. “But I’m not alone now!”
Seraphina