His reaction is kinder than most. It is awe trapped in his eyes rather than fear or anger. She softens. Although perhaps already seeming a pool of calm water her edges had held ice at first approach, wary of any strange and how they may respond. She has little to defend herself with and much to lose so caution trails her every step. It is why she often wanders under the gaze of the trees and the rain, holding the mane of the wind and the dust rather than those of others.
Nature has little to tell her however, at least not plainly. It is cryptic and ancient and she has needs to know of the animals more so than their land. Her life is a constant risk, but it gives her heart reason to beat, even if that pace is often quickened.
"Are shadows and dreams not real enough?" she asks softly, his mournful voice drawing a rise of pity in her chest. What ails the mind and heart of this unfortunate unicorn so?
A laugh bursts from her nose then as he poses a question so unoften heard by her, surprising as it may be.
"Worry not, I would rather your forwardness than the many other options you cold have selected." A coolness enters her tone at the end, suggesting past pains and hurt. Her body and her tree are not without their own scars, though the moss seems often attracted to them and covers them with its green kiss.
"I am Willow - a Lignea." She pauses, green eyes assessing him with a steady yet welcome gaze.
"Specifically, I am an Aborun Lignea, or that is to say, of a tree's soul. We are an ancient kind, long forgotten and often misunderstood. The tale of my type is long and without heroic." She would rather not speak of herself when there was much else from others to learn, but she understood the fascination with her oddity. Experience had taught her to error on lack of speaking and instead to take of it.
One time she had told another that all the grass they ate was part of a Lignea and that many of those kind did not live long. That individual had feinted. Then they drove her from the herd for spreading false religion and lies and crimed her with attempted murder at bringing anorexia to that fool.
She sighs.
"A sandman?" she queries as he opens up about himself. Her green eyes glint in the soft light of the waterfalls and the arches.
"I thought you a unicorn, is this different?" Truthfully she is curious, and the name felt fun on her tongue when she said it.
"What is The Edge?" There are so many edges, how can he call one a The?
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