He felt bad when the painted stopped, knowing that his question had prodded too deep, too quickly. It was only his innocent wonderings, wonderings that had never ceased or stopped since younger ages. His thirst for knowledge was just something that would never be quenched, and the chromed did not feel the need to stop thirsting, aspiring, reaching for the drink of thought and learning(perhaps though, he should learn when to ask such trying questions.) His great head turned to follow the falling behind winged, golden lanterns keeping a tight eye on her.  His brow rose then as striking, colorful crystals formed from nothing. More questions flooded his mind, but he did not ask, allowing Isara the peace she more then likely needed. With a sweeping motion, he encouraged her back to his side, so they may continue to their journey across the wilds and sands of Helovia. He allowed himself to privately think about the crystals, and as the master of manipulation put the pieces together, he figured that the crystals were somehow connected with the mare's emotions. What a cursed magic, although the product of the magic's use was stunning, it was revealing, something that would take great control to learn how to avoid exposing herself. He pitied her, how was she doing? Some part of him reached out to her, felt foreignness that he could not explain. Maybe his life pre-memory loss was trying to speak to him, it was if the chromed could relate. Shrugging the confusing thoughts away, he let his stride slow as the mare filled his head with a story. Oh how he loved stories.

Her story was satisfying, intriguing even. It spoke of tortures, heartbreak, hope, loss, the key elements to a good story. But he could not ignore the way her voice cracked, only him to be the blame for his persistent questioning. Softly then, he reached out, muzzle lightly tapping her cheek, "You did not fail, Isara. You must not look at that way, you must realize that you tried." He spoke, his words hopefully encouraging and wise.

The cream and brown interested him more as she spoke, her words creative and beautiful. She was intelligent, a force that could easily be wielded into something very powerful. There was a lot of potential in the soft spoken mare of a troubled past. "Those are stunning words you speak. " Miseal said, throughly enjoying them.

After they had crossed the bridge and his yet another question had been asked, the winged's voice chimed out as she so kindly answered all of his pestering. Her answer was hopeful, he was glad to see that she already was ready for Helovia life, herd life, the Dragon's throat their shared "true" home. Miseal never really thought that he was capable of settling down to one place, he was a gypsy after all, but it had seemed that his time in the desert had proved differently, and he was now extremely invested in the throat. He owed the place that had become so much to him that at least.

A mass of black and blue distracted him from her questioning, the mare of lightning answering his call. The horned dipped his head at her arrival, respecting his elder and successor. "Nice to see you again." He said softly, goldens then wondering to Isara's face as he intended to answer her question. "I am an informant, which puts me in the sneak class." He informed(ha) her, a light chuckle escaping him at her last comment. Ampere then spoke, claiming that she must've known Isara before. Had they known each other before? Flicking back to that of Isara's greens, he watched for her reply, and perhaps the crystals that would come with it, if any.






"talk"

OCC: @Isara @Ampere

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MISAEL