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07-20-2012, 07:02 PM
Her words sparked a surprising reaction in the black stallion, and her ear tufts perked up in response to how he came to attention. "Ink? Isss that what you arre called? Lucky obssserrvation, then." Her beak gaped slightly in a semblance of a grin. "But you cannot ssspeak..." Her expression turned thoughtful as she watched him, considering.
The others were just as quick to catch on to his muteness, and both quick with questions on her statement. It amused her, that she knew some little more than her companions. Perhaps more than that little. Her sire had filled her young life with stories and lectures about all sorts of things before she had fledged, and then taught her and her siblings all they needed to survive. A surprised glance was cast toward Poppy at her mention of speaking with pictures. So that was how...
"To anssswerr quessstionsss..." She rose and leapt down to the ground, wings flaring briefly to slow her descent before she landed. It was quickly apparant that she stood shorter than mare or stallion, closer in size to Cirrus in height, though clearly lean with muscle beneath her thick fur and feathers. A taloned hand lifted up a blacked clod of dirt and snow where Ink's ink had fallen. "Thisss is ink, what he makes." A curious look was sent toward Ink as she dropped the clod, wondering if he was all-over with the substance. But she didn't touch, didn't ask. "Octopi arre squissshy eight-limbed crreaturresss of the oceansss." She sat on her haunches and etched a rough sketch in the dirt with one talon.
Small lessons complete, she wrapped her long tail around her feet and tilted her head to regard the trio of horses with one eye. A content little purr-croon vibrated in her chest, for she was enjoying herself. It was not often that she had this much conversation about things. Most were full of questions about her, why she was so friendly and not inclined to attack. This was a nice change.
The others were just as quick to catch on to his muteness, and both quick with questions on her statement. It amused her, that she knew some little more than her companions. Perhaps more than that little. Her sire had filled her young life with stories and lectures about all sorts of things before she had fledged, and then taught her and her siblings all they needed to survive. A surprised glance was cast toward Poppy at her mention of speaking with pictures. So that was how...
"To anssswerr quessstionsss..." She rose and leapt down to the ground, wings flaring briefly to slow her descent before she landed. It was quickly apparant that she stood shorter than mare or stallion, closer in size to Cirrus in height, though clearly lean with muscle beneath her thick fur and feathers. A taloned hand lifted up a blacked clod of dirt and snow where Ink's ink had fallen. "Thisss is ink, what he makes." A curious look was sent toward Ink as she dropped the clod, wondering if he was all-over with the substance. But she didn't touch, didn't ask. "Octopi arre squissshy eight-limbed crreaturresss of the oceansss." She sat on her haunches and etched a rough sketch in the dirt with one talon.
Small lessons complete, she wrapped her long tail around her feet and tilted her head to regard the trio of horses with one eye. A content little purr-croon vibrated in her chest, for she was enjoying herself. It was not often that she had this much conversation about things. Most were full of questions about her, why she was so friendly and not inclined to attack. This was a nice change.
