He could hear footsteps upon the earth. It surprised him, despite having expected some sort of answer or another. Not this quickly, surely. Masanori lacked any concrete basis for which he compared the response to. The days behind him were numerous, and easily bled into one another. All recollections of other equine passed by as dull glimmers in a much larger chapter in his life. With quiet passing, their voices had lifted up into soft murmurs. Sometimes, a pair of eyes would meet with his. But he had refused to stop and acknowledge them then. Refused to delve in the social ambiguities tethered to such gazes. And here he was, another set of eyes pale and forthcoming. For a moment he thought, she might see right through them; an empty soul, simple minded, aloof. As if she had caught him bare and naked. Had she commented as such he would have found no argument, and proceed to agree fondly of this observation.

Another noise, subtle, darted from the female to the back of her ‘pursuer’. He lifted his head high with a brief motion. Smelling the air for the predator. His ears flattened, jolted by the realization that a wolf is often settled into a pack of brothers and sisters. And with the height of the winter season settling upon these lands, enamoured by the scent of fresh blood. To his curiosity the mare did not seem to notice or care much for the presence of the creature. Shifting on his feet, his ears relaxed as the wolf ran off. Shaking his head briefly, his eyes resumed as her voice sampled the air around them.

“… and you have answered,” he replied slowly at first. Hesitant, as the words quickly picked up on their own. Became familiar and distant with which the form of his lips took on, having movement and shape without true purpose. His head tilted at that moment. Stepping forward in an air of profound curiosity. “Will you walk with me?”

His voice sought for something. But the level of question did not hinge off of a desperate plea. Subdued as they were, he could not help the rusty edge from which his voice pressed into the air. Weathered but far from being old or weary of his travels.

It seemed strange to make contact in this way. Offering a moment of intimacy by the gesture of his leg, extending it in her direction. As though it were natural for him to suggest as much. Lacking true form, any hint of regal formality, his reactions were as how she had first caught him with her eyes. Exposed, naked in his approach.

But there seemed to be no other way to react to her. And the idea that they were nothing more than strangers kept him calm. The distance between galaxies, as they rushed farther and further from each other, came with a mutual line of defense. However lonely it appeared to some. Even so, as Masanori figuratively surveyed the distant stars of the people around him, his gravity had pulled her to him. Somewhere deep in his psyche, the warmth of this proximity would spread. Uncovering perhaps, more than bare bones and empty soul.



@[Essetia]

His focus shifted when the pale wolf returned. Ears flickering, nostrils taking scent. It was more than habit to taste and smell the earth and air, water and animal; it was a skill set that he cherished most. At the flash of wolf teeth, a wary rumble bellowed from his chest. Cautionary. The sight of their casual approach to one another however, seemed quite… extraordinary. It made his eyes harden.

The stallion thus kept quiet as she took to words. She had offered a change of face, a smile; yes, he could recognize this but did not mirror it. It made her appear warm and sincere. An assumption he could not easily appraise. It was with a simple nod that he accepted her suggestion.

“I tend to take my chances.” The decision, thus, was made. The mare moved forward, her long legs leading him into this unknown. The paint watched for only a second or two before catching up on her left. Now and then keeping sight of the canine to her right. He decided to keep pace with her. Not minding the thick snow as they plodded forward.

She mentioned the wild beast, Romul, she called it. “Friend?” The stallion echoed. “… what do you mean by friend?” He glanced from where the wolf had taken off, to meet her face. Eyes resting, momentarily, on the distinct white marking upon her face before he guided them out and ahead. Avoiding the direct gaze of her eyes as they walked. And instead, relaxed his neck and shook his head. A single eye, sky blue, was all he had afforded at that moment to discern her queries.

“There is something I seek.” Simply said.

“I can’t say what for.” He swished his tail lazily behind him. “I’ve been traveling for a long time. The road gets rough, but I don’t mind it... And then I came here, I guess. Helovia, you called it? Yeah.”

He scanned the forest to his left. Watching how the tree stumps overlapped one another in the distance.

“I’m not certain if what I seek is here.” It didn’t bother him. The stallion was content on being on his own. The physical terrain had fueled him out there. Although, the further they walked, he became more aware of multiple, lingering scents. Hinting, that this world before him was much more than what he had first anticipated.

“I am Masanori.”

He gave his name like an after thought. Something he had almost forgotten to say.



@[Essetia]

His eyes alighted from the brief encounter of their faces; a low spark, a hint of intelligence perhaps. He wouldn’t have been able to tell, and the feeling from its rare combustion had no description. His response - merely reactionary to the internal spaces of his mind - marked the mix matched lips with a rare smile. One that did not last long without the fuel to keep it growing. As soon as he had turned his head forward, it had long since faded. Capturing what appeared to be hesitation to Masanori. With a second thought he wondered if she would bark a warning for the brief gravity his eyes had fallen from. But to his surprise her long silence came with a reply he didn’t entirely expect.

“Bound by soul, then?”

… we are bound for life, she said. Masanori could not think of any other bond deeper. The idea of love was a concept the stallion knew very little of, and perhaps there was some physical component attached to this idea. The days of his childhood – he knew he must have had one – would not peel back the thick mists that clouded his memory. He was not sure what he might expect. Were he anyone else, perhaps he would have wished for a certain upbringing. Would it have made him stronger, he thought?

Sometimes he would fancy these trivial thoughts for just a moment. Simply because he could not control them – a fool’s game that the fool might enjoy playing. He had enough perception that there was no point to this game, no time wasted on a past forgotten. Bend as he must to the strange and wondrous things in this life, surely, he would find his roots and take stake.

The paint took another deep breath in through his nares. Just to smell the wolf once more. At least it was real.

His gaze wandered about to view the terrain, his ears twisting for the sound of any others. Despite the rich aroma lingering in these halls, there were no others he could hear or see with his eyes. Perhaps they knew these woods too well, and avoided the sight of one accompanied by the mare. Without thinking twice he continued to walk beside her in the thick and wooded path. The light was dim here, partially blocked off by the spider web branches overhead. It reminded him of the dreams, of his ‘companions’ in the dark. Enchanting the stallion, as if by a spell or twist of magic.

“Perhaps.” He seemed to muse along. “There are many though, who will die trying. Seeking becomes obtaining and preserving.” His lips stilled briefly then. “I imagine there are very few things that last eternally. Perhaps it comes down to what’s worth fighting for.”

The stallion’s head bobbed in response to her reassurances. Not far now. He gave little notice to the brambles as they hitched along his feet. Especially as the meadow spread out before them, bringing his heart to quiver. The colt residing in him enjoyed the open pastures, and made his legs ache to race through their pristine, shapely curves. He lowered his head slightly, tossing it to remove the wild locks from his eyes, before raising it high. Resting the weight of his haunches with enough coil to spring him forward, should that need reach beyond its threshold. And yet, he stilled himself for her words.

“I’ve never been in one before, a herd.” Looks to unabashed, and again quieted. Not only for his thoughts, for they seemed to take time now and then to take voice. But because he wondered what sort of response he would invoke upon the mare. “But I’d like to find out.” His eyes sparked again and took another appearance. They embodied the boyish nature of a colt; an energy to explore and test all boundaries. Perhaps a large smile would complete this picture. But he lacked this component.



@[Essetia]