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CHISEL
Ultimately, Chisel surmised that the smaller stallion had also long previously come to the conclusion that the spotted mare talked too much just as he had. He supposed it was just in her nature, though he could not understand it. He knew he could come off quite irritable and standoffish himself at times, and allowed the mare her habits as every one seemed to have some that others found disagreeable. It was impossible to say who would prefer a chatter mouth over a brooding old giant and vice versa, so he felt he could hold no disdain fairly over Rei. The sharper tongue that Lace unleashed upon her seemed to snap her own into more tame speech, nevertheless. He listened as they described the forest and began to gather an inkling for its strangeness, an explanation as to why his coat tingled before as he broached further and further inward. They spoke with an air of grandeur, as if living in this world was a gift. Perhaps, it was. Uncharacteristically, Chisel allowed himself a flicker of hope that his long run was at an end, and he might sleep at night with both eyes closed for the first time in his life. That thought faded though, and he contented himself with knowing that he would most likely never lose his sense of caution. It was the only thing that had kept him alive so far, and it would be foolish to toss it away now for no true reason.
With a new interest he turned from Lace and listened to Rei. She spoke with a much wiser air of knowing now, perhaps having calmed down after initially appearing. He wanted to ask questions, but he was not the type to interrupt or butt in. He would have remained silent until she had told him the entire history of the world most likely, had she not prompted him with a question. His name. He probably should have mentioned it sooner, but in all honesty he gave it out so little now and even less often in his distant past that sometimes he altogether forgot he had one. "Chisel is my name. Or so I was told. And...I appreciate the notion, but it is not necessary to remove my chain. I have found it prudent to keep it as a reminder...to be grateful for what I have gained."
He lost himself in thought to his own words, what they truly meant to him and how he had surprised himself in actually saying such aloud. It was rare that he had to voice his own thoughts and sometimes when he did they came as a bit of a shock to him. But, he supposed it was true enough; the chain was a memento, albeit a painful one, of a time when he was not the master of his own fate. He was now, but it kept him in check and gave him focus. It drove him to always look for better, to believe it was reachable at some point in the future. With a bit of a start, he realized the other two had dismissed themselves and were turning away from him to stride off into the wizened forest beyond. His ears swiveled in a wave of confusion and he wondered at the swiftness with which they had given up their interest. It then became a bit more obvious that it was but a ploy, but he allowed the other stallion that it was a strategic move.
With a toss of his coarse mane and slight chinking noise in response, he drifted after them with the lumbering pace of his size. They had gotten a sizable distance ahead of him, but he was still quicker than he appeared when he desired to be. Mimicking the silver stallion's humorous tone from earlier, Chisel called in as "playful" a tone he could muster, "I've never met anyone give up so quickly before, regardless of if they thought they were bothering me." His voice rasped slightly - he was not in the habit of using it this much at a time very often. It probably ruined whatever success his teasing might have produced in the process, he mulled darkly. He might as well ask his questions now, though he had sworn he hadn't cared only moments before. Sometimes that happened to him: he'd suddenly pick up an interest where before it could not be stirred even if he willed it to be. It must have been something in the way that they wouldn't stop mentioning it. "You might as well tell me what the Dragon's Throat is, and why it is that I should visit there instead of some other place."
The truth was he was under no impression he belonged anywhere. He never had before, and others had certainly never loved him, not in the way he knew most other horses seemed to love a select few close ones. He had always made more enemies than friends, though there were a few pairs of eyes that had looked upon him not in fear but rather in compassion. That was a strange sensation for him, having been raised in an environment that harbored the notion that he was worthless and deserved no one's sympathy for he was not deserving of it. Perhaps, that was untrue, perhaps, it was not. Either way, mind over matter was far easier said than done, in principle and in practice. The sound of the Dragon's Throat place wasn't altogether unfamiliar; he had bid his time in a desert before, a place where only the outlaws had been sent. He was no true outlaw, not really. He had merely chosen the place where he knew he was least likely to be found by anyone who might still be chasing after him. This new place could be worth at least glancing at, he told himself. Whether or not he would call it home was another matter that he was not concerned with just yet. "Do you both hail from there?"
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