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When Dröm explains her predicament to the stranger, he seems only mildly interested. His gaze travels to her leg, trailing downwards towards a throbbing hoof. Under what power she does not know, but any ill-will has vanished like the snow. With no further words, the stranger colored with coppers and creams moves behind her. Her writhing tail stills as he settles behind her in attempt to avoid smacking him in his face with the thousands of whip-like hairs. Thickly-lashed eyelids flutter for a moment as she turns her cranium towards him, her forelock sliding to cover one of her caramel eyes in the process. She is curious as to what he will do, but that is not the only thing that fuels her to watch. His horns are dangerously close to her susceptible skin. His eyes seems to burn her skin wherever they linger, making her squirm and fidget.
The wind from his cyclone is so close. The sudden urge to touch this barrier of his is overwhelming, still, she finds herself hesitant and afraid when he tells her to lift her hoof. How will he touch her with this cyclone circling, encasing, him? Will his wind hurt and mar her damaged frame further? Could it be strong enough to knock her clean off of her feet? Dröm's heart beats wildly in her chest, each beat so forceful and clear that it's as if she can hear it in her ears. Obediently, she lifts her hind left leg, the bottom of her hoof angled towards him for a clear line of sight. The stone is lodged well into her hoof, jabbing into her sensitive frog each and every step. The throbbing is almost intolerable.
"You do not have to help me if you do not wish, bevingade främling." she offers, breaking the thickening silence. Speaking Swedish is Dröm's equivalent of you breathing. It happens without too much thought behind it, yet it still feels pretty damn necessary. "Speaking your name you have not. Do you seek to keep your name to yourself?" She questions curiously, ears tilting towards him as she straightens out, once again looking straight ahead, trusting the stranger enough to not watch his every movement. "Perhaps that is the smartest way to go. If I could redo everything here, handing my name out to everyone would be the one thing I would change." Her introduction to the stranger had begun with her name. Remembering that, she quietly adds, "My name is far from private. Keeping it to myself now would be pointless." Her eyes sweep the area in front of her, curiously wondering if anyone else would join them. Though his company was not horrible at all, she hadn't talked to many in months and the feeling of companionship, or whatever the hell was going on here, was a blissful reminder since of what everything had been before. She longed to talk to more horses, to acquire relationships, be they positive or negative. Her current relationships were confusing. Most of her friends had lived with her in the land of the Hidden Falls, but that is no longer her home. She and her friends have all went different ways. It is unfortunate that this has happened, but Dröm has made no attempts to rekindle with anyone. It's easier to start everything over and pretend everything is going smoothly and that the past never happened then it is to fight a loosing battle with the pain and heartache of the situation and refuse to move on. The past is in the past.
"blah blah blah."
bevingade främling = winged stranger
also, let me know if you want a tag or not :3
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