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The light breeze tosses Ru’s head feathers in infrequent shudders. Her nearly pupiless eyes steady on her superior, waiting for something. Commands, information perhaps, or… a test? Ros had mentioned a patrol that one Frostfall day, when she gave out tasks – perhaps this was where they’d begin?
Sup?
Ru isn’t sure what to make of the greeting. In truth, she’s never heard the word ‘sup’ spoken out before. Her response is a combination of perplexed confusion, giving rise to the brow that lifts, and the low hum that seems to reflect her steady surprise. Was she expected to say something?
The thought of having to talk still sends an uneasy flattening of her crest. Her eyes skirt away from Ros’s roaming gaze, preferring to focus on the creature behind them. That bizarre animal with bat wings, and a tail she’s only able to recall seeing in the deserts; munching away on meat and sinew.
She swallows a sense of impending dread collecting at the back of her throat. Would the general cast her out of their ranks if she knew? Little, white lights seem to reflect her unease – casting tiny strands that flit in and out of existence.
The stammering reminds her she should be focused. And snaps her gaze back on brown and bright blue eyes. The lights that surround her cease all at once, as Ru presses her ears forwards.
“How...uh...how’re these daaays?”
The mare grunts without realizing she has. There is… something in the air between them that she had previously zoned out of. But the silences drag far too long for there to be a cordial mood, especially between two strangers. And that dread, that sick feeling of uncertainty – of childish hopes, preserved in legend and imagination hinge on this interaction going smoothly.
She decides to be honest for once, rather than shrugging off the question. The mare unfurls her wings, spreading them out like white and dusky sails embracing the full force of the wind. Tossing her head up into the sky, the sun – the heat and the warmth – these are all things that are dear to her. And she is content. The mare exaggerates a big grin on her features, that perhaps – looks a little more menacing than usual, because she’s really trying hard to look ‘happy’. A little too hard.
Ru’s gusto flails, and quickly crashes as she snaps the limbs back into her sides. Shuffling awkwardly, and holding only a faint trace of the forced smile. She finally nudges her muzzle at Ros. Cooing out, in an attempt to deflect the question back at the general.
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