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Time, it would seem, doesn’t take long to divulge his little secrets.
Brimming as this place is with strange and unfamiliar scents, the addition of another doesn’t initially pique the stallion’s interest. It takes the muffled rustle of the damp undergrowth to catch the dunalino’s attention, and by this time, the pair is already in sight. He curses under his breath, reprimanding himself for being so negligent of his surroundings—he should know better by now—but the deliberation is fleeting and soon lost to more witty and fantastical thoughts.
The pair dances between dappled shadows and mossy trees to approach him. He watches them with a gaze that mirrors the green haze of light that peeks through the boughs, picking apart only the surface of the mare’s face—and violet eyes as piercing as his own. It’s been too long since he has tasted such a sweet scent upon his tongue, too long since he has interacted with anyone, much less with the company of a mare (impregnated or not). So wrapped up is he that Rohan nearly overlooks the mare’s company—not another mare, or stallion, or even equine-related at all for that matter.
Dark lips purse and his brow furrows questioningly, his handsome head tilting as he inspects the interesting sight of bear and equine. While…companions...are only legends in Etherim, the tales are well-known among children as they grow. But knowing very little truth about such a phenomenon, Rohan can only assume that is what he witnessing now (and fortunately he has some manner of poise to compose himself well enough before the pair comes to settle before him).
Rohan’s gaze lingers curiously on the stout white beast (admittedly his skin prickles, against his wishes, at the growl), his eyes soon following his ears when the blue mare speaks. She greets him with a purr that makes one side of his brow rise amusingly for a moment, even if the mystery behind her tone is intriguing. “Helovia, you say?” Rohan muses deeply, his eyes twinkling as he continues, “thank you, stranger.” A smirk plays across his lips, but something distracts him before the Warlander is able to continue.
Flicking the length of his long tail about his fetlocks, he turns his green eyes to the approaching stallion. He tries (somewhat) to not be annoyed at having to tear his attention away from the female, but the newcomer seems like an agreeable enough fellow, so he swallows it for now.
“Fortunate indeed,” Rohan boasts, his chin proud, though his gaze is soon stolen by movement from the stallion’s…neck? ‘Uhh, mate? Your mane is moving,’ seems like an appropriate exclamation until the little creature reveals itself. Rohan flicks his ears in curiosity, exhaling heavily through his nose as he ponders what novel sights have already welcomed him this day. What a strange place this is. But the thought is exciting, eager to discover what unknowns this world might have to offer him.
Thor continues, introducing himself and his homeland. An impish smirk skews the Warlander’s lips with questions of ‘pleasure.’ Childish, maybe, but pleasure is certainly something that the young stallion could use a fair bit of right now. “I have traveled for many months, as one often does when in search for nothing in particular. The wilds have done me well, certainly, although I wouldn’t protest if my wanderings were put to rest,” Rohan chuckles deeply to himself. No need to reveal that he is actually running away rather than trying to find something; it is a trivial point as far as he is concerned.
Trailing a glance to the blue mare, the dunalino allows a little simper to shadow his lips. “My name is Rohan; the pleasure is all yours, I’m sure,” his tone slips into something reminiscent of light sarcasm towards the end, a private rebellion to his mother’s reprimanding perhaps. She always wanted him to be a gentleman.
Tag: Lakota & @[Thor]
“Speech.”
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