He watched the two ladies converse, his entire body still tightly coiled and ready to run, but the large raven in the tree gave her golden eyes to him and he was captured. Mildly unsettled by her honesty and the piercing quality of her look, Far began to fidget, shifting his weight from one side of his body to the other and nibbling at his shoulder in an attempt to look like a fly was bothering him. He was uncertain how to answer her, but the words of the other winged lady—‘Alysanne,’ was it?—pulled him in another direction. While the dark shape in the tree was both mysterious and calculating, the mare, Alysanne, positively radiated a warmth that was catching. Far felt rather bashful, not knowing if he deserved all the fuss. He waited his turn to speak, listening to the conversation with the intent not to appear to really listen, as it might have appeared rude. Bowing his head to both, he tried not to embarrass himself further when he spoke.

“Pleasure to mit ya both. An’ I suppose I’m new t’most. I’ve been a bit… “ Far paused, searching for the correct word. Standoffish? Antisocial? “…Busy,” he finished, lamely. Then his mind was pulled into the conversation between Alysanne and the raven and he was soon considering the naming of children. For his first family, it had been an event they considered sacred. He’d learned the naming rite from them, a ceremony in which each foal’s name was given through votes from the other family members, with the veto-power given to sire and dam. Much of the individual personality of the foal was taken into account, as well as particular acts the foal had taken in its first month, or (rarely) months of life. This ceremony had seemed so terribly traditional to Far that he’d decided not to reenact it after the birth of his own child, instead trusting his love to name the filly (as he thought his own abilities lacking). Recalling that name rang another bell in his heart, and Far had to turn Alysanne’s words carefully in his mind before he responded again to keep the pain at bay. Yet, he was a bit confused by her question, not sure how she meant it. Didn't everyone go through something similar when they were named?

“Th-The usual way, I assume?" He blinked and shrugged. His story was boring to him by now. It was almost too embarrassing to tell again. And nobody wanted to hear all that mess, certainly. Clearly dodging yet another question, he asked, ”How’d ya git yours, then?” He tilted his head to one side quizzically, eying Alysanne. He tossed a curious glance to the black bird, wondering how birds usually named themselves.

@[Isopia] @[Alysanne]