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He’s too busy searching the sky for a sign, anything, to notice the smell in the air – the sound of heavier foot falls that approach. Saoirse can’t decide if he’s angry or sad, if he should be one or the other, or if he just wasn’t trying hard enough to find her. In any case, he wouldn’t have recognized the smell of Albrecht. The boy couldn’t recall the traumatic event of breaching into the new world, of all the smells that had assaulted him and the noises, the sight and feeling of being exposed to the coolness of Orangemoon. It was all a little too much to process. So much, that the appearance of the thin and bony face above him startles the boy; in a way that tenses his muscles, and expands his wings in a muted fright. “Ahhhh!” He tries to roll away in a pathetic attempt to avoid. But the grass is too tall and cradles him wherever he goes. Until finally he stands with energy abound, heart racing and eyes twinkling at the strange and odd stallion. And somehow, all of it, the discovery of another soul – and the curious question that presses into the air makes the boy giggle.
“ ‘m fine, missster.” Saoirse gives his tiny frame a shake, inadvertently splashing snow off his frame. “Are you alright?” He looks up at the massive frame, all bones and black, and copper hair that lines their belly. It looks warm, and the little one’s eyes glitter with the temptation of reaching out to touch it. But by then he’d caught something shuffling in that cloth-thing.
“Wa’s in there?” He gave pause, more and more questions filling his head. “An’ why you so pointy?” Mother was rather round and full bodied, she was strong and young. The boy couldn’t quite fathom old age yet, and that was the only way he could point it out to the strange stallion. Skin and bones. That they were different somehow, everything that was new and wonderful to the boy required immediate investigation.
The stranger sighs, and speaks with a sharpness to his voice. An edge that makes the boy’s skin crawl, until he realizes that he speaks of his mother. Saoirse is dumbfounded by the simple request. And stares up into those crinkled eyes, uncertain and surprised that he would ask. “Mama?”
He blinks and shies away from the old stallion’s gaze, shrugging with his small wings – not quite flight savvy; decorative fluff. And idly draws circles with his left fore hoof into the snow beneath him.
“Looking for ma. She… she could be hid-ing. Like a game? But she’s hiding real good.” Saorise meant to be chipper, he enjoyed playing and running, and jumping and tumbling into the soft cool snow. But it seemed like forever already, and he couldn’t even smell her on the air. His large brows knit together, before he shot the black unicorn a grin.
“Maybe you help me?”
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