09-12-2016, 10:39 PM
He almost jumps out of his skin with the sudden voice that has appeared out of nowhere (snow has a bad habit of dampening sounds, but logic does not mean much when one is scared out of their wits). The male whirls around and finds himself face to face with a grinning mare only a little taller than himself. She is grey, has a strange melodic quality to her voice, and her smile is contagious. And, somehow, she knows his name.
Moggett has never traveled in circles with those of such powers, so he is not accustomed to such displays. His mind is baffled by such a parlor trick and his confusion is evident on his face. He does not have long to ponder such magic, however, for another joins their party and his attention is diverted to the new arrival. She is small, but young. Moggett wishes for the days when he could blame his height on his youth, but they are long past. He only smiles, a little disheveled, at the filly before returning his attention to her foul-mouthed and possibly omniscient aunt.
“I suppose so.” He laughs nervously, unsure of himself with the strangers (at least its not some huge muscular pompous asshole, Moggett, count your blessings). “Though I much prefer the summertime.” He says in an attempt to make conversation. “How do you know my name?” He asks curiously, and then as an afterthought “And what’s yours?”
Moggett has never traveled in circles with those of such powers, so he is not accustomed to such displays. His mind is baffled by such a parlor trick and his confusion is evident on his face. He does not have long to ponder such magic, however, for another joins their party and his attention is diverted to the new arrival. She is small, but young. Moggett wishes for the days when he could blame his height on his youth, but they are long past. He only smiles, a little disheveled, at the filly before returning his attention to her foul-mouthed and possibly omniscient aunt.
“I suppose so.” He laughs nervously, unsure of himself with the strangers (at least its not some huge muscular pompous asshole, Moggett, count your blessings). “Though I much prefer the summertime.” He says in an attempt to make conversation. “How do you know my name?” He asks curiously, and then as an afterthought “And what’s yours?”
Moggett
@[Reagan]
@[Jinju]