Thales hardly expects anyone to join him. Far from the type to sit around waiting, he was content in his loneliness, his amble wanderings. Disregarding the social interactions most of his kind needs. He has been by himself for far too long. It is evident. There are hoof steps though that make their presence known to that sensitive equine hearing he possesses. “Silly…girl,” he says, that rough speech, make gravely by his baritone voice. But, regardless, her questions cause his head to turn towards her with a mild sort of innocence. That anyone may have had some sort of attachment to the pebble or the water had clearly not occurred to the grullo. The sight before him then readily captures his attention. “Oooh, pretty.” He moves suddenly towards her and brings that muzzle towards her, wishing to feel that bright skin beneath his touch. He is not a gentle creature, his often volatile, violent nature allowing little to no emotion to bleed into his day to day life. It is strange then to see him reach out with nothing short of gentle touches. He lets his lips innocently trace lines upon her. Oblivious to the fact that she may not appreciate any of this touching. He likes the way her skin feels soft beneath his touch, this bright skin he already seems to utterly adore. He is entirely aware that she is female and he male, (though he lacks the wherewithal to notice how inappropriate he is being), his mind having now formed an obsessive need to hang onto her though why cannot be said, clearly finding fascination in her colorful coat and pretty companions around her. Thales pulls back then, shakes dark hair from those untamed green eyes and offers no more than a boyish grin. It is so rare to see Thales truly gentle, instead he was so often irritable, volatile, if not utterly violent, the harshness of his existence resulting in a battle worn, disagreeable creature, who was hardly ever so relaxed, most of his life being made of relentless moving and searching, though he hardly knows for what. “I do not like water,” he says, his speech unencumbered with that statement, letting her know just how much he means such a thing. Thales has not liked water since as long as he can remember, though, that hardly says much. The silver boy hardly capable of thinking and mulling over the past, he typically seemed to be only concerned with the presence. But that fear, that instinctive fear that the winged stallion felt was clearly something that held strong and fast within him, he just could not tell you where it lies. He looks at her once more with those green eyes of his, entirely enraptured with the pretty thing he has found. “I think…I will…keep you.” He has never had a strong suit for manners. “I want…to play…now,” he says, those garbled words from lack of use for so long. his words, so innocent sounding holding something far darker in their intent. He never was...normal, his innocence within the world hiding something so very, very dangerous though it remains contained for now. “Play…with me…pretty.” Insanity evidently, is his most obvious attribute. One he displays not with pride, but due to his inability to hide it. His head tilts in her direction in an almost puppy dog fashion as his wings ruffle against his side. The fact that she very well could and very well may say no, hardly occurs to him. After all, Thales wanted to play, so she would play. His logic—it’s sound.
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@[brunhilde]