It feels so…wrong to the Elephant, to continue his watchful place from the trees’ shadows. Many times the impulse to step out into the pleasant afternoon sunlight and greet the star-marked mare (perhaps remind him from where the nagging sense of familiarity arose) nearly overcame his commitment to the Earth God’s quest.

But, every time his thick knee rose to set out into the light, images of glinting griffon talons tearing through foal flesh in the Edge reminded him of why he had sought out such power from the gods. So, he waited, sighing softly every once in a while as dark navy eyes watched the star-studded woman lazily graze, languidly drink from the stream, luxuriously rub her itches against the trees, and (finally) gracefully folding into sleep.

His great, massive heart suddenly beat in his chest—as fast as if he had been loping around the Rotunda all day. Black-rimmed ears tilted back in uncertainty; this wasn’t something he did.

Yet there he was, thick and long limbs slowly (with a laughable excuse for ‘stealth’) carry the great stallion’s massive frame sun’s afternoon light. His ears swiveled all around, gaze sweeping from the mare’s sleeping eyes, rhythmic moving chest as he approached. He paused for a moment, eyes caught by the small creases that twitch her otherwise serene face.

Ki’irha.

He nearly said the name aloud—though just caught his deep and rumbling voice in his throat. That was where he knew the mare from! His pause continued even longer, even more unwilling now that he actually knew this unsuspecting woman. A quiet, long and slow breath pulled into his nostrils…

But then he continued, navy eyes (unwillingly) leaving the amethyst face, white-forelock framed face for the comb that was haphazardly placed in the ivory tresses. It was tantalizingly loose, crystal teeth barely bit into the tangle of mane. A hold of breath, a tight blink—and the man forced his muzzle out, dark lips parting to quickly free the comb from the woman.

However successful his un-stealthy mouth may have been was entirely negated by the sudden and familiar immobilization he felt take hold in his limbs. What?! He had not summoned his elephantine shifting magic—and nor was he accustomed to shifting so quickly or so large.

If not for his discomfort with stealing from an acquaintance, he might have jovially laughed at the Earth God’s intentions for this part of the quest. To be caught by his own magic in the midst of thievery was a great and amusing trick, indeed.

But despite the frozen, slight upward curve of the corner of his wrinkled grey lips, his elephantine face and navy eyes were mostly colored with chagrin.

“Ah—uh—apologies Ki’irha,” he managed to stumble out the words as the transformation magic released his vocal cords from its immobilizing hold.