She talks a lot, but the young often do. The bearded stallion listens from his reclining position, having always been careful to consider the words of foals with their unique perspectives and thought processes still unaltered by the cruel impassivity of the world, but when she immediately parrots a worn out adage his interest wanes, turning dismissive and only half listening to the rest of her speech. He’s no child to be impressed by thoughtless recitation. “I challenge you to ask those who have loved and lost in their lives just how much merit that saying holds and whether they would be relieved or distressed to watch their dearly beloved move on without them.” Love may be beautiful and enduring, but it's also viciously jealous.

He cocks his head at the surge of excitement in the filly’s voice as she emphasizes, ‘lives,’ slightly confused by her wistfulness. Most young things want to live for themselves, experience the world, not witness it. He wonders if there’s some reason for her wanting to be a passive observer instead of an active participant, some injury or deficiency, or whether she just enjoys watching. Little perv.

One ear flicks back in cautious distrust as she approaches, looking him over and sniffing conspicuously. She offers her name in exchange, but he stays silent, acutely aware of her scrutiny. The girl definitely has a thing for details and he’s not quite sure how he feels about that, other than self-conscious and slightly uncomfortable. Drawing inward, he takes advantage of the filly’s proximity to snatch a mouthful of suddenly vibrant green, luscious grass from the earth around him, chewing appreciatively until her next words give him pause.

Darkness? His brow furrows. Darkness? What the hell is that supposed to mean, he wonders grumpily. Does she suppose he’s some sort of demon or fairy tale monster because of his appearance? Should he be insulted about this? He could be a really nice fucking guy for all she knows! Or maybe it’s less his appearance and more his surly attitude that prompted the comment. Maybe she’s just accustomed to the usual shield of cheer and consideration that most adults instinctively take on when dealing with children and finds his lack thereof surprising, distressing.

Glancing up at her, an odd necessity of their relative positions, he considers a moment, swallowing and licking the taste of magically enhanced grass from his lips. “I only know reality. It's neither bright nor dark. It doesn't care for individual experiences like good or bad or fair."



OOC // @Aelin