The motions of her face, the upturn of her lips, the squint of her eyes - told him nothing. He was at a table with puzzle pieces made of squares and circles and nothing fit together to make a larger picture. So, he stared. His eyes did not betray that he was lost, and his expression barely twitched. Only a tilt of the ears forward visibly relayed his curiosity and interest. Ulrik did not mind when her eyes seemed to drift from his own, mad gaze and instead onto hid structure (he assumed). Though, he wondered absently if she would find any beauty in it whatsoever. The stallion was the runt cut from a band far larger and bulky than he, so he often did not see the thick musculature that spiraled his bones as anything particularly unique.

Perhaps his most striking feature was the alluring and archaic lines that wound up his left leg and shoulder, bronze in coloration. Ulrik always wondered if his parentage displayed any of this marking or if he was branded as a young child; he had the mark ever since he could remember, and no screams of pain came to mind from so long ago... at least not ones that could have been caused by the formation of such an intricate pattern. The wind caught his thick, bronzed beard, and he suddenly wished that he was more clean. He was not normally concerned about such things, but now he was acutely aware of the knotted tangles of dirt and mud that wound in his thick mane and the clots of mud that were caught in his fur. Why did he care? Disturbing how his own thoughts ran away from him...

Hm...

Well, if she was spying, he might as well. Apart from his initial inspection, he noticed that her hooves were fused and her tail was full, but that did not diminish her allure. If mares had an allure. She seemed less... flighty and stupid than the others, at least, and she did not smell of those wretched pheromones that poured off of them in tidal waves when their bodies decided that it needed to be with child. Anyway. Ulrik did not have issue with her features. Many of his pureblooded brothers had managed to emerge from the womb looking more equine. As long as a horn still erupted somewhere from the skull, he was not concerned about their blood purity. Though... perhaps he should be. That boy... the Varath boy...

Focus.

Depression hit as he spoke about his lost power and the tragedy of the lifeless machines. Was she asking for clarification? "Yes," he replied simply, not sure if he was supposed to elaborate. Her commentary on his appearance confused him, and he stared at her with his mad eyes, the uncertainty crinkling the skin of his brows ever so slightly. Something about her tone sounded cheeky, as if she knew something that he did not. "Appearances can be deceiving," he replied simply, and he was so very right.

He asked about her electrical burns. As she relayed her story, the engineer's ears tilted forward in deep interest. Was the body still around? Could he study it? Learn from it? "Liquefied shock then?" he queried, eyes positively sparkling. Well that was fascinating. One would have to cool it at such a fast rate that the current was turned into a quantum flow state... How could the creature biologically produce such a phenomenon? "I will have to see the body for myself, I think."

Ulrik would not have minded if she had refused his gesture of support. Mares were stubborn that way - almost like an entirely separate species. However, she did, and he did not mind. Most likely he would smear dirt on her, but he found that he really did not care about that either. When she spoke, her lungs and vocals rumbled against his strong sides, and he nodded to what she said very slowly, rattling his beard just a little. "I recognize the pattern of an electrical burn," he said, tipping his mane to the other side of his neck to reveal some strange, streaking scars. "I learned the hard way," he said with a wry smile. "So no, you did not seem destressed; I just know what to look for."