Murdock had never been incredibly graceful, nor coordinated with his feet and silent in his step. He was, by stereotype, supposed to be a creature of grace, but on land he had never fit the bill. He was far too large and his legs far too long to sneak about through the forest like a cat, and so it came as a pleasant surprise to him that he had actually startled someone. It filled him with an odd sense of pride to see the shock in her wide, blue eyes, though he was disappointed that her singing had stopped. It was eerie of course, but then, the grove itself struck him as somewhat unsettling. The silence seemed deafening as he joined her in the shallows, only the distant trill of birds and the soft splashing of his hooves in the water to remind him that he wasn’t deaf.

He nodded as she spoke, looking out across the clear waters in quiet reflection. Her voice was soft and smooth, much like the gentle breeze that moved through the clearing. It reminded him of his mother’s voice, though the memory was faded and buried beneath images of war, death, capture and snowy cliffs. What he wouldn’t give to see her face once more, to hear her voice and know that she was alright. How did he sleep at night, not knowing what had become of the family he had left behind? How did he sleep not knowing where she was, or whether or not she was in danger? He wished he had gone with her, so that he could at least have held onto one thing he loved, as all else had slipped from his grasp. What was the story of this mare before him? What meaning did this song have to her?

His gaze returned to her face as she spoke once more, searching out the depths of her eyes. She mentioned love and loss, darkness, and the need to be saved. Could they really be so similar? Was it fate that had guided him to visit this sacred grove? We both need to be saved from the nothing that we’ve become. His eyes dropped to the sand at his feet, the silence filling with thought. He wanted to ask her to sing it again, so that he could remember the sad tune and perhaps come to some understanding on the true meaning. At the same time, however, he wished he could forget he had ever heard it.

Why did the troubles of his past have to follow him everywhere? He travelled in hopes of escaping the nightmares and painful memories, but they always managed to catch up with him. Was she even real? This Lady of the Lake, who had so mysteriously appeared on the shoreline, could she be some sort of ghost or tortured spirit? He almost wanted to believe that she was a figment of his imagination, and that he truly was crazy and this was all some weird dream. But, maybe he could learn something from her. Maybe he didn’t want her to go away. Perhaps the aching of his heart could be healed by her wisdom and sweet voice.

He shook his head as he met her gaze, drawing his attention back to the present. “No, you are right. We have all lost someone or something, but I…” he paused, unsure whether or not he wanted to bring up his troubles. “I’ve lost everyone.” He smiled faintly at her, shaking his forelock from his eyes as he looked out across the lake once more. This was such a peaceful place. Could he not forget his problems and enjoy himself? He was thankful when she changed the subject. “Murdock. General of the Foothills,” he dipped his head in greeting, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eris.” Oblivious as usual, he failed to notice much of anything ‘different’ about this mare. Her true nature, the fact that she was a cold-blooded killer, was well concealed and he saw nothing of danger in her eyes. Perhaps it was just as well, that he was blind to the potential outcome of this situation. For the time being, he felt he could relax in her presence. “What brings you to this place? Do you have any family in the area?”

"talk talk talk"