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His vocals caught her attention, ensnared her swiveling, black lined auds and held them in focus. Listening intently, she drank in the social contact... something she hadn't really had the chance to truly enjoy in a years time. Taking a deep breath, she sucked in the crisp clean air, once blue, rainbow hued optics closing to drink in the silence that seeped in after. Catching his smile was like playing with the wind, it was quick and fleeting, or rather, catching him.
As she brought her skull down from its perch, and opened her eyes he was gone from her side. The warmth that radiated from his body no longer chased away the chill, in fact, all that was left was a trail of hoof prints leading away from her. Like a dog to a bone, she followed them with a slightly cross look. Why did he have to disappear all the time, every time she turned her back on him he vanished like a ghost! Did he pay any mind to those following him?
What if she had gotten lost? There was no way she would find her way around this place right now, after all.. it was mountains and snow. The only thing she could do is backtrack. As Myrah pondered after the elusive stallion, the light show seemed to decimate and once again cloud cover took hold. Leaving the night dark and foreboding. Slowly she ambled along, trying to see his larger prints in the dark.
Eventually she spotted his tail end swishing along in the dark, yet it seemed to come too soon, for she felt it before she saw it. "Um... Sorry... Didn't see you...." she barely managed as she tried to back away like a frightened cat. "You know, a little forewarning of your departure would have been nice." her words slipped out before she could bite back her tongue. To her, it sounded almost venemous. 'Great going Myrah, will you ever be able to talk to anyone without nearly biting their head off? Its been days and you have barely spoken too him!'
"Have you lived in the Basin long?" tones came warmer this time, trying for some resemblance of kinship. Yet her own inexperienced awkwardness still rang clear as a bell. Where the hell was he going, and why did he stop? Those seemed like more appropriate questions, but this time she bit them back. After all, Myrah prided herself on maturity, she didn't want to seem childish and talk his ears off.... surely he would ask her to leave then right?
Thunder rolled above, a flash of light briefly illuminating the scenery and his bloody red markings, as if he had pulverized and eaten the flesh of another being, something she hadn't really minded surprisingly. Yet even now she wished that someone else would come along, break up the slight tension she felt was building within her. Why wouldn't he speak to her for more than a few sentences?!? It was awkward, it made her feel awkward and immature... Myrah did not like feeling that way.
"Myrah Speaks"
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[O] Northern Lights, Bittersweet Night
