Sometimes it is very difficult being blind. Like the times when you wonder why on your beach when you had desired some alone time (you are almost always alone, which makes the exceptions all the more noticeable), and perhaps even more so, when you cannot figure out what they are doing on your beach.

Morir doesn't see the door that so mysteriously stand upon the sand. He doesn't see the parrot of a horse that circle around it either, but he can hear her footsteps in the sand. The picture it paints in his brain is confusing; she is clearly focused on something, but what? Nothing out of the ordinary create a sound here. There is only wind and gulls and the rush of the sea, and the infuriating sound of padding hooves that move around and around... and stop.
The beast frown beneath the pallid mask, so similar to the white-washed bone that lie before the door. Curiosity always been one of his more endearing traits, and today it is as alive and well as always. Unbidden and without introductions he start forward, a looming shadow that seem very out of place on this sunlit shoreline. He has always been a creature of the night and dark, grim in thought and lonely of spirit; yet today he move without hesitation towards the colorful bird, drawn by a desire to know what she is up to, why she stopped, what the heck she is doing here in the first place.

Brusquely and with no respect for personal space he press in on her, sliding up on her right with so little distance remaining between sun-kissed skin that a slight movement from either might cause them to crash together. Disregarding any protests or warnings he reach out the roman nose before a thickly arched neck, breath hot and slightly sweet as quivering nostrils crave to discover what she is holding in her mouth.

Without really meaning to he find the soft velvet of the muzzle brushing against the cool, unfeeling surface of bone, so familiar and calming; and when he flinch in surprise he nudge something else, something different. Something that didn't belong on an empty, sunlit beach; a wooden surface, solid and unyielding.

Something is definitely going on here, and Morir is dying to know what it is. Even the fragrant, tempting presence of the mare is second in his mind to this - though, should he manage to figure out this mystery that might very well change.

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Ooc: Seeking a [Companion: Griffin | Draining Clutch] Wishlist No prior refusals.

WC: 417
Summary: Morir walks over to Bellona, slip up next to her and lean over to see what she's doing. Accidentally touch first the bone, then the door.