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HER GUNS ARE ALWAYS LOADED! His laugh was comforting, more than anything - it showed he wasn't as on edge as their last meeting. Likely because Nyx wasn't peppering him with questions about his murderous habits, to be fair. It's an egg, doofus, he said, and she stepped away from the crystal like it had burnt her. "It's a what?!" Well, she couldn't decorate her mane with an egg! She stared down at the innocently-glimmering gem with an expression that was a strange mixture of repulsion and fascination, wondering whether to be disgusted at her own stupidity or pleased that the fates had seen fit to give her the egg. Of course, she did not truly believe in fate, but she did believe that there were otherworldly forces at work to ensure it was she, out of every horse in Helovia, that found the egg - a sign that she should nurture it and whatever came out of it. As long as whatever came out of it was cute, fluffy and definitely herbivorous. She looked up at Mauja, inwardly groaning at the notion that, yet again, he was going to have to be the answer to all her questions, her thesaurus on hooves. "So if I keep it warm, and it hatches....it could be an owl like yours, or a horned hell-beast like Aramis?" She looked down at the egg again, scrutinising it as though it was something she had discovered stuck to the bottom of her hoof. How could she tell what was in it? Was it like a lucky dip, and she wouldn't know until the day it hatched and a giant ass whale fell on her head or something? She really didn't like surprises. She had been contemplating the idea of a companion for a while now, to give her some sort of defence against the numerous Helovians with their own pet fang-monsters, yet she had never thought it would actually happen. Now here she was, with an egg at her mercy, and she was really, truly tempted to keep it and nurture it, to have the endless companionship that she had witnessed so many times. She shook her contemplation free from herself, and looked again at the spotted stallion. He confessed he was a mess, and she idly wondered in what sense he meant that. "What happened to you?" she asked, evident concern in her blue gaze. She didn't know him that well, but he was pleasant enough - if a tad odd and brooding - and had answered her questions, so she felt some sort of connection to him. Enough of a connection to be worried about his welfare, and curious as to the origins of the wounds on his pelt. |
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
