11-12-2017, 04:06 PM
”I shall fear no evil.”
It is as if the last line of the prayer slows time, if not halts it. Instinctively he knows it’s a prayer, one unknown to him, but a prayer nonetheless. Though it’s not meant for his ears, it stirs something within him. His unusually fox shaped and red tipped ears flick in the direction of the sound and slowly his lips part from the cold water.
Hiroto cannot say that the other stallion had sparked something within him, he hadn’t had some kind of interest in something or someone ever since his arrival to this world. Now he couldn’t say that any longer. He bends his neck first, then step by step turns himself ninety degrees to the side, so he can focus his honey eyes on the stranger.
For a moment his – almost – empty gaze searches the black male’s features. Then his eyes wander to his body, but there’s nothing unusual except for the bare patches on his knees. A very strong contrast to Hiroto himself, from his pale cremello coat to the red lines that form intricate patterns on his coat. A few represented his origin, such as the red lines under his eyes and the outline of his ears. Others are unique to him, like the lines from his neck to his back and the bands around his left hindleg.
Unaware of how he looks, personal care and the impression others might have of him aren’t on his mind at all. ”It doesn’t bother me” he honestly replies, shaking his head slowly. With his left foreleg put in a resting position he just stares at the other male for a while. The urge to ask a question feels strange, almost unfamiliar and so out of place, but Hiroto simply cannot keep his lips sealed. ”Who were you praying too?”
He doesn’t mean to pry, or to get himself involved in another’s business. He’s genuinely interested, and there is a sliver of hope in his honey eyes. It’s unlikely that they worship the same goddess, but that doesn’t mean he cannot find hope and comfort in interacting with a fellow believer.
It is as if the last line of the prayer slows time, if not halts it. Instinctively he knows it’s a prayer, one unknown to him, but a prayer nonetheless. Though it’s not meant for his ears, it stirs something within him. His unusually fox shaped and red tipped ears flick in the direction of the sound and slowly his lips part from the cold water.
Hiroto cannot say that the other stallion had sparked something within him, he hadn’t had some kind of interest in something or someone ever since his arrival to this world. Now he couldn’t say that any longer. He bends his neck first, then step by step turns himself ninety degrees to the side, so he can focus his honey eyes on the stranger.
For a moment his – almost – empty gaze searches the black male’s features. Then his eyes wander to his body, but there’s nothing unusual except for the bare patches on his knees. A very strong contrast to Hiroto himself, from his pale cremello coat to the red lines that form intricate patterns on his coat. A few represented his origin, such as the red lines under his eyes and the outline of his ears. Others are unique to him, like the lines from his neck to his back and the bands around his left hindleg.
Unaware of how he looks, personal care and the impression others might have of him aren’t on his mind at all. ”It doesn’t bother me” he honestly replies, shaking his head slowly. With his left foreleg put in a resting position he just stares at the other male for a while. The urge to ask a question feels strange, almost unfamiliar and so out of place, but Hiroto simply cannot keep his lips sealed. ”Who were you praying too?”
He doesn’t mean to pry, or to get himself involved in another’s business. He’s genuinely interested, and there is a sliver of hope in his honey eyes. It’s unlikely that they worship the same goddess, but that doesn’t mean he cannot find hope and comfort in interacting with a fellow believer.