Only a minute passes, maybe two, maybe less. He’s unsure of the exact time, only that it’s an insignificant span, too little for much of import to happen and they simply stand silent and dumbfounded anyway. Nothing has changed, he tells himself, and yet it feels so very different. Three of the four stand staring at one another, mouths tightly closed or hanging open – in what? Confusion? Disbelief? Disorientation? Only the tiny snake holds his focus, still angrily curved into an S atop the old stallions head, his tiny, pupil-less eyes pinned to the other unicorn, a low shhhhsss of warning escaping his little throat.

The black shakes himself, glancing back and forth between fawn and stallion, trying to glean some fragment of understanding from their postures, but the two seem just as at odds with each other as he does with them. His mouth opens, questions crowding for space on his tongue, but he bites them back, thinking better of it.

He wants to ask about the stone, what it is, what it’s done, because normal stones don’t draw up such feelings from the corners they've been shoved in, don't cause such introspective thoughts, but asking feels too much like admitting that something had happened, that something has changed, that maybe the other stallion doesn't scowl quite so hatefully at him when he snaps for the old man to watch where he's going and he's not sure he'd like to know the reason why.

"Fuck off." He answers, forcing a semblance of normality between them and taking small comfort in that, as feeble and transparent as it might be. "You fucking ran into me, you prepubescent piece of shit." He's pretty sure that's not true on either count, but he's pretty sure he doesn't care either. Every insult and f-bomb starts to rebalance his world, bricks falling into place on a wall that normally spans in all directions as far as the eye can see, yet somehow crumbled beneath the strike of a single stone.

'Go.' His companion asserts, vehement enough about the demand to actually say so in plain English, or in as close an approximation as he's capable of. The stallion obeys, moving to skirt around the others flank, still careful to keep the young buck between them for as much of the maneuver as possible before turning away and lifting his chin up high to exalt the python for his actions.

A few moments ago he'd known that there was no one to call to his defense, no one who would even consider doing so having heard of his need, but he was wrong. His little snake had quite literally sprung to his defense and his actions have not gone unnoticed. Fuck mice and birds, the stallion boldly thinks, today we're hunting rabbit kits - a favorite of the young python - or frogs or lizards or dragon babies for all that he cares. His companion is a hero and he will eat a heros feast.

Slowly the snake relaxes from his offensive posture, thrilled, utterly overjoyed by the glowing approval of his bonded. He closes his needle lined jaws at last, working them into a comfortable position before flicking his tongue once, wondering just how happy the stallion might be if he'd actually bitten the golden streaked stranger.



"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
OOC // @Rikyn I'm dead, so much for making friends. xD