In my life I have generally been alone and left to my own devices with minimal contact with anyone else. I suppose if I were to be questioned on it I would have to say that I find the idea of conversing for the sake of conversing to be ridiculous in the extreme. I have always measured my words and dispensed them as though they are a precious commodity; naturally this served to further my isolation as most find this a disturbing trait and presume arrogance the source. Whispers behind rocks and trees not meant for me to hear everywhere I traveled and inquired as to my brother’s location. Little speeches meant to ridicule, hurt and wound my supposed pride were I to hear them. I have excellent hearing. Charcoal lids slide briefly closed against the memories; the past is not the present and I regretfully have not been attending the conversation as closely as I should while waiting for this stranger’s explanations
.
Remember, child, in all things you must be aware and calculating. The pestering voice of a presumed dead mother fills my head this third time.

I need no reminders of this yet my subconscious intervenes regardless. Clear eyes now shift to the side, observing for the first time his appearance beyond the unusual patterns of his hide and bearded face. Why does he bear summer’s coat? A flash of concern dances across midnight features, he is sweating slightly and has not the warmth of a winter’s coat. The expression is quickly smothered, there and gone in the space of heartbeat. His words soon reach me and draw my eyes back to his, blinking lazily as it suits me. I cannot tell what he is thinking but I sense the subtle change in the air as perhaps some fear ebbs away from him. The eternal mask I bear becomes difficult to hold upon the word “banshee”..he thinks me a screeching demon? Never have I heard myself described as such before, not even by the whispering fools of my memories.  Again he turns his gaze to my shoulders in confusion and I allow myself the barest moment of utter frustration but remain still as stone; a statuette.

Explain what happened to your wings? He finishes and I expel a small puff of air, the display of my frustration.

Blackened lips part and pull back, indifferent words on the tip of my tongue but immediately are swallowed back by the rustling sounds of another’s approach. Cerulean eyes turn to newcomer, unease threatening and stilling an already frozen form, my inexperience with others chafing against patience. Allowing my gaze to roam the mare’s features, I am tempted to relax. She seems most pleasant though I do not understand her speech and blink in surprise at the arrival of another foreign language to my ears. Her stockier frame is nothing if not lovely, curves forming in the right places balanced by budding muscle. It is clear she is younger than me though not by much and I quickly realize that I stand taller than she; something of a rare find for me. Dark brown eyes bear kindness and my own pools reflect it back to her until the stallion speaks out again and breaks through my façade slightly. For a few seconds my lips curl up into a bemused and hardly seen smile.

I look to him, the smile lingering slightly and reply softly, “Surely you do not think this one a banshee as well?” Turning away I address the mare next. “I do not understand.” My penchant for few words shining through, though I keep my tone light if not borderline friendly. The evening’s chill blows through then and I glance to the male curious how he is handling the frost and falling snowflakes. This new mare and myself have proper coats and I find myself thinking of other lands and how I suppose not everywhere sees the seasons at the same time as Helovia. Truthfully the weather is not a topic I pay close mind to and I enjoy standing in the rain as much as stretching out beneath the sun’s warmth. Another rustling sound breaks me from my silent musings and briefly I hope to find my brother descending from the skies. Knowing it cannot be him as he does not know where I currently am I feel a keen disappointment in my chest; an all too familiar ache building. Sure enough an even younger mare gracefully lands next to the foreign speaking mare and proceeds to examine everyone present as though they are under observation for a study. Neutrality firmly fixed in place, the former unease I felt pushing its way back and demanding I give it credence. Indeed, I easily give in and begin to formulate; weighing all options before me and debating with myself on how inappropriate it would seem if I were to simply turn and depart.

Deciding I care little what they may think of me I ignore the howling protests of my mother in the back of my mind and turn to go. Before I can put much action to use however the filly speaks and I stop squeezing eyes shut in unspoken annoyance. Fine, mother, you win. I turn back then, my new position placing me next to the male and I almost step away from him but compassion grips me when I notice a subtle tremor running the length of his spine. Instead of moving away, I shift so I stand mere inches from his banded wings so he can absorb what heat he can from me without contact. Physical contact is lost on me and in truth I dislike it immensely or I may have pressed a little closer.

Curse my compassion and damn these infernal rules.

The filly speaks again addressing the whole of the group once more and I raise an invisible brow at her announcement. Why she should think I would follow her is beyond my comprehension and my features and limbs freeze into their statuette form. Before I can speak my first companion of the evening does and I relax ever so slightly at his soothing tongue though I know not a word of it. He then appears to remember me and softly translates before looking sadly at the new fallen snow and saying another cryptic phrase. I quickly take my turn and this time my voice lacks light and is entirely indifferent though pleasant enough for my purposes. “Indeed it has, however I do not know why you would presume to have me follow you?” I cast a glance to my left at the stallion and for half a second confusion and concern share a dance in my eyes at his crestfallen expression.


"speech"

OOC: okay =)