There is no shortage of words in the mare's windpipe, and nothing, it seems, to keep them from all from exploding out of her in an orderly sort of detonation. The girl is not sure she has seen anyone speak so much in such a short time. She has seen the birthplace of a river before, and she imagines the spotted mare's mind to be much like that, constantly bubbling with new life and fresh water, cascading with information and thoughts and ideas. She watches, soft, through deep black eyes, watching the words as much as hearing them, imagining they might float away on wings and flutter around her head. Pretty things, distracting.
The girl wonders what's inside, what more there is to the winged mare. She says that she was once shy, withdrawn- How did you change? she wants to ask, but the mare keeps talking and the filly stays still, the moment of curiosity lost in a flurry of one-sided expression. She tries to catch the boy's eye, but he seems lost in the other mare's voice, tentative and quiet, blue and still, and when her voice finally cuts the space between them, it resounds back darkly in her ears, a stark change to the bright spotted mare.
But the Pegasus does not seem to care. Seven words from the girl are enough to send the stranger spiraling back into her blithe bubble of glib talk, and Tandavi is surprised to see the mare pull herself up, delight and pride lighting up the delicate two-toned features. It surprises her, always, that other have an up to pull- she has always found herself standing tall, rising to the entirety of her now-nearly-sixteen hands, spindly legs disappearing into the world below her. Even a youth not fully grown, she threatens to tower above the winged mare, and this somehow makes her feel more secure in the pressing tide of the stranger's voice.
She is so distracted that she nearly misses the mare's next eager sting of tangled thought, and is so surprised when the words strike true that she slips, frowns, and opens her eyes wide. "What?" she half-laughs, taken aback and rather confused. Singing? Not when others could hear. "No," comes the simple answer, an easy denial choked beneath the aroma of a self-conscious blush. She wonders if she ought to say more, but the dark voice is hiding beneath a pillar of alarm. Black eyes look to the boy, desperate... and he finally rescues her, and she sighs her relief.
Grandfather. The word means nothing to her, though there is something beautiful in the lesson the boy speaks. Tandavi looks from one to the other as they declare their ownership of this 'grandfather', and frowns softly, wondering if she has one of their own. Clearly, they are living; clearly, they are male: but the only males Tandavi has are Lace, and Madyrn and Maskan, and, none of them, she thinks, are particularly wise.
The topic changes faster than she can keep up, but Natraj is quick to catch his cue. Off of her back the tiny fox leaps, dramatic and glorious, grinning as only a canine can. He lands triumphantly at the mare's feet, tails wagging wildly in the eerie, ice-filtered light. He sits on his haunches at the mare's hooves, ears pulled back and gold eyes glowing; he yips excitedly, more vocal than his sister, and growls the latter half of his name. "Rrrrrrarrrrrrrj," the kitsune declares, and Tandavi clarifies in her midnight voice: "He's Natraj. I'm Tandavi." She does not ask the mare her name. She knows, by now, that it will be offered in time.
Again, a jump, but this one catches the filly's interest more. She looks at the boy, her expression soft: is he lost then? Like her? Perhaps not lost in the physical sense, but less than able to find a true home? Perhaps, she thinks, they can find a home together. Perhaps he will someday be her friend. She doubts it, but then, she always has, doubted with an ember of hope in her soul.
[ ooc | No worries hon. Life happens <3 ]
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