A sound, much like a radio signal messed up by static, broke his peaceful reverie. His ears rotated atop his head, but Irma gave no warning cry from the blue sky where she soared — nothing of deadly, physical nature was approaching, but things of deadly, physical nature seldom did a noise that grated so on his ears. It had almost sounded like a voice.. like something from a dream... Her curiosity pulled him closer, tugged at his world and her own, forcing them just a little closer... Coupled with the residual energy of so many souls passing through it worked, a rocky connection, but it was there — it suddenly felt as if the world shifted under his hooves and like someone smacked him on the head, but it left no lingering pain. Blinking in surprise he quickly scanned the surrounding forest, though Irma still gave no sign of danger. In fact, the only emotions rolling off her were content, warmth, love, and concentration. She was hunting, though, as always, kept an eye on every other thing that moved.

So either she didn't care, or she didn't see what he saw.

A dream-like whisper of her voice floated across the ages, more solid, with words he could make out, though he saw only the faintest shimmer of her shape. Swallowing the onset of panic, the desperate thunder of his heart, he tried to force himself to grow calm. This wasn't, after all, the first time. Heartbeat by heartbeat her shape grew, her more solid contours tracing the shape of a slim but strong body, filled in with hints of.. gray? Lavender? It was no one he had met in life (a wave of denial from Irma; she still insisted he wasn't dead), so he had no memory to help him fill in her colors, though he saw nothing to make him think her a Pegasus. "I think," he said from where he stood, something vaguely amused and philosophical in his voice. "That I am here." But I am not quite sure. He wasn't sure of anything these days, least of all where he was. He only knew where he wasn't, and he assumed she was there. In any case, if Onni had been real, then this mare, whoever she was, ought to be real too, but that was like founding a thesis on something that likely was a lie. Though, somewhere along the road, he had begun to nurture that black seed of hope, and now it was easier to just go along instead of fight it.

His mind quickly looped through the facts he knew, about his and her location. The Threshold. Chances were, she was a newcomer, but he had no real way of knowing — she was scentless. Just as he was not there, she was not here, yet somehow they were stuck somewhere in between.

"Who are you?" His voice carried like a whisper on the wind, steady despite his initial .. surprise. To call it panic would be truth, but he had mastered it, or just fallen through to another level of insanity where things such as these did not bother him. Which, he guessed, ought to be disturbing, but he had to admit it was easier to just take these things in a stride and shrug his shoulders than to get all worked up about it each time. Perhaps he was truly losing sense of himself, of where he ought to be? It was a saddening thought and for a moment his face fell, but a wave of comfort came in from Irma. He might be lost, but at least, he was not completely alone.

( <3 welll... they can speak, but he'll always be transparent and sort of "distant" to her, and generally, he sees less of her shape than she sees of his. touch would just go right through. just.. treat him like a ghost. XD )