The more he walks the more he finds himself thinking not a person exists here- the few who tread are light-footed and little more than insubstational ghost. Where are they? He is disappointed in the silence of the herd. The stallion does not want arguments, nor hardship, or anything of a sort that is poorly and dark; he has no need of arguments or conflictions in the herd. Yet he cannot help but feel the herd is deathly silent.
Where are they? The foals, the smiling creatures, the laughter and the warm scents of family? The stallion sighs, a deep sigh filled with sorrow. Mostly he wants to shed tears for what feels the death of a herd never alive to him; is it, perhaps, time to move on, to somewhere with his time better spent? Yet the mountains keep him close and the grass is green; the birds sing and the skies are bue. His thoughts are simpler things. He has always been a simple, happy creature, at ease with his family. Not often is he troubled anything but creating items and bending metal.
Argetlam moves soft-footed, lightly treading, through the valley deep and broad, or phrased more correctly, the rolling emerald hills and rough turf. He can sense the metal, it's throbbing heartbeat in the earth. And he begins to dig, one pale hoof knocking the dirt out, scraping away at rocks. It takes until the sun is high to chip away at the small patch of dirt, but nonetheless he does, and the sunlight soaks into his dark stone coat, dappled pale.
It's a vein, of iron. A throbbing vein that seems to hum, ready and excited for his touch; and Argetlam begins to farm it, casting waves of thought wide and carefully extracting it, and more and more, until he has a sizeable amount. For a long moment he studies it, and then he begins the process, twisting and forming it, locking it and trying his best to carve some details into it with the knife of his metal telepathy, until it is done. A mouse, simple enough, with delicate ears and a long, slender tail, and he pushes it with his muzzle; but it doesn't wind up and move, and he gives a little huff of disappointment.
[open!]
"TALK TALK TALK"
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