BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
Cashmere?
What a curious name.
Ashamin, draped in silk himself, took a few cautious steps closer to the mare and farther from his charge, even as Cashmere had just spoken of him. He nodded, slowly, his head bobbing with each step and his long tail dragging, tesla coil clattering against the stone and casting sparks.
Was Lochan a deer? In a way, of course. But in another way, in a magic sort of way, he was something else. "Lochan is a cerndyr," the haruspex answered simply, at last ceasing his walk and the clicking of his cleft hooves. He paused and extended his cheek to reach for hers as was his custom, hoping she would reciprocate.
Behind Ashamin, his companion slept soundly. The haruspex could see into his dreams, painted in colors and sketches, infantile drawings of the world as the cerndyr saw it. What was it like to have such innocence? He looked upon the dark body, scattered with spots that all focused on that marked brow. There was so much wisdom in such a small young body. When would he have such intelligence, himself? Would he ever?
His body was hunched but his head and neck erect to reach the mare who stood even with his hands. The haruspex looked upon her, clad in gray and purple hues, with curiousity. She seemed like someone he would have met before. He was certain, somehow, that he should have met her before.
But all that was neither here nor there. It was just speculation, abstract emotion and the faint tug of malformed memory. Maybe he'd just met someone like her. Maybe he hadn't, at all.
The buck shook his head and pulled away from the mare, the white stone in his horn rattling faintly. "I am Ashamin, Haruspex of the Aurora Basin," he offered with an easygoing smile, sighing as he finished speaking. It was cold, and it was quiet. He felt at a strange peace, as if the rotunda were trapped in a bubble untouched by sound or the disturbances of the everyday.
[[No poem muse, sorry. But tag!]]
Table by Jen, with help from Avis