i will forget to give this a real title, watch me

[Malkin]

Malkin can’t help but grin a little when the colt asks if a gourd is a type of moose. “Uhhh no. It’s a type of vegetable. A plant.” At least the boy didn’t turn into a great plant hat was a common food for horses. Malkin is grateful that he has never eaten a gourd before nor does he have any plans to try. Still, the idea that there are horses that can shift into plants has him wary about everything now. Will a flower he trample be someone’s daughter? These are disturbing thoughts and he’s growing more and more unsettled by all of these big reveals today. He didn’t expect today to have anything interesting - nevermind find a son who would make him question every plant he ate from that day forward. “I think that’s why you don’t remember… since plants don’t have eyes or brains or anything.” The maroon moose grimaces a little, figuring that it probably wasn’t good fatherly practice to tell your son he’s braindead - but it was only sometimes. So it wasn’t too mean of him to say, right? Damn he was so out of practice with this parenting thing. And though he has no place to judge, he wonders if the boy's mother knows - wonders what kind of parent leaves a child that turns into a gourd and can't even do so much as roll away from anything that might come along and squash him. He tries to adopt what he hope is a comforting expression in his teal eyes and his voice is soft as he forces himself to ease the edges that have become all too easy. “I don’t always turn into a moose, it’s a different animal every time. Sometimes a bird, sometimes a bunny. I can’t control it, and it’s usually worse when I’m upset.” He watches the colt, wondering if that will sound familiar. "What's your name?"

image by Reitro

@[Florian]