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Saoirse nods once he’s attained the name. In a strange, curt manner that went against his otherwise careless mannerisms in the short span he’s arrived. “Levitz.” He murmurs, preferring to play with the name against his tongue – rather than hold on to it against his mind. When saying it sparked a vivid, tangible memory he might be better off holding on to.
The boy shifts slightly on his feet, tucking feathers haphazardly against his back and sides. “Why?” He finally questions, surprised to find that the older colt wouldn’t mind living in the wilds – if that were the case. He prefers the comforts of the herd, the protection offered by their warriors, and their reputation that beams as an abode of strength and family. Or so the Sultans and Sultanas proclaim it to be.
About to interject a thought into the air, another joins them. Gaining his eyes and shifting his body slightly away from her first appearance; for while her body remains equine-like, there are a number of horns that puncture through her face. Blood tinged and as vibrant as the sun, against a black canvass.
“Woah…” Should he be terrified? For a moment the flashes of the bone monster press against his mind. But this stranger is incredibly equid, and like Saoirse she has attained at least two horns that adorn her head – a crown that continues to line the edges of her face and snout.
Saoirse is inevitably distracted by these differences, and to the glowing markings that shine brightly in the darkness. The boy remains calm enough, even though the sun begins to fade and the light is stripped from their grasp. The boy doesn’t expect her firm words to suggest an alternative to their presence. And while she exudes authority, and firmness, a laugh escapes the boy when the older of the two responds.
“There’s no one stopping me,” he confirms casually. Tilting his head at the strange mare. It’s not like she’s his mother after all. Encouraged by Levitz’s rebellion, he sets an amused grin against his lips instead. In either case he had his wings and the heavens to escape to, if the mare thought of any funny business.
“My home’s in the Dragon’s Throat.” He finally pipes up. Keeping an eye on the dark mare and her gleaming yellowed eyes. “It’s this island down below, with great weather all throughout the year. You should check it out at least. They, I mean, I guess we’re always looking for new people to come. And our warriors are the best – so you know… If you wanted to beef up, that’s the place to be.”
Not that he knew what Levitz wanted. But the boy thought it was interesting enough that maybe, he’d escape the mare’s glare and run off with him to the Throat.
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