The stranger didn’t seem interested in Ele’s inelegance. His mistake went unnoticed . . . or, at least, uncared for, much to the young stallion’s relief. Mauja’s eyes were fixed on him, yet his lack of heart hinted that he was swallowed by his own world, and his words drifted out seemingly despite his thoughts.

Ele tilted his head. He was grateful for the dappled drake’s own absorption rescuing him from awkwardness, and his intrigue grew even greater than before. This one would require a bit more digging than usual. The enchanting mirage Mauja wore on the surface could certainly rebuff the initial instinct to ask. It also surely worked in his benefit. He could play the role of strength and boldness and grace he projected without the suspicion of others gnawing at his open sores. It was incredibly effective.

Of course, it was a part of the practice to accept the possibility of nothing being the answer to Ele’s question. He wasn’t always right to assume there was more to a person—some really were void beneath it all. Ele hated nothing. It belonged to such empty, lonely people; yet those who were generally the most socially attractive—neither an aspect Ele exactly resonated with. It was an admirable trait to the average eye, though: someone with no contrition, no remorse or guilt, and no demons trying to claw their way back up from the weathered pits of their past. What a fantastic existence.

Still, Ele didn’t like to bank on the likelihood of nothing. In truth, it was so rare, because of the deep-rooted fact that almost everyone encounters misfortune at some point in their lives, and it takes hold of you, whether or not you have the ability to pave over it with positive experiences or not. It manages to slink into the cracks of your soul, sometimes appearing in the eyes of a stranger; sometimes taking the form of something good or familiar: a song, a gift, a loved one, a home. It was all a part of the universe’s game. At times, it seemed as though the cosmos pointed the question at the individual directly, as if to ask, ‘what can we do to trigger their deepest struggles this time?’ The individual’s emotional reaction was both the error and absolute artistry of consciousness.

‘So, what was, or is his affliction, I wonder?’ the stallion blinked, lost once again in his imaginings. He had no intention of rescuing anyone when he asked himself these questions. He didn't want to play therapist. He just wanted to know; to understand the conditions of being conscious, and with that knowledge construct a model of purpose for his life. Selfish.

Taking a moment to refocus on the conversation, Ele thought about what the brute said. It was a beautiful question. He was amazingly smooth, gracefully keeping the dialogue away from himself, and still managing to provoke a conversation that possessed depth. Ele raised a brow, impressed, but played it off as though it were a reaction to the splendid scenery, glancing around as he did so. “Isn’t every journey?” he responded, tone laced with thrill. This little adventure was proving to be a fabulous decision.