Nervous tension stemmed from his shoulders down into his toes as the colt rocked away from the filly and all her conundrums. She was fearless (flawless) and unapologetic, a curious combination of complexities that upended the young prince despite his best façade. Somehow he couldn’t fight his mortification and his disquiet as she blinked at him from behind those dark lashes and beryl colored eyes. Should he glance around the cave a bit more, he might find such beauty in the minerals and the rocks that stood erect nearby, but Uriel was too proud or too stupid to act as if such childish whims affected him. Instead, he shuffled his feathers, preening and puffing in lieu of the girl’s attentions, still unaware of her fascination for the sparse plumage along his slender shoulder blades. For he was but a male after all, and one that thrived only on affection and admiration. But he was caught, ensnared, by her irritation thereafter. Her breath bellowed forth in response to his oblivion, an expression he assumed to be exasperation toward his ignorant disposition, and suddenly the colt felt guilty for misunderstanding the girl’s intentions.

When he turned again to face her, a warm, rare blush coloring the skin of his cheeks, he founds the filly in a similar state. Had he been mistaken once again? He waited for her response to his questioning, but the words never came, instead leaving the faint traces of his own voice to falter against the stifling silence of the caves. What is wrong with her, he prodded internally, expectantly.  With nothing more than her face to study, her expressions as they shifted from one thing to the next, Uriel found himself at a loss.

He shuffled uncomfortably before her, his hooves creating a soft din in the darkness and the utter mystery of the cavern, before he paused to listen to her warbling song. It was just as primitive and frustrating as the filly herself, because it provided him no answer as to what exactly she wanted from him. He clucked dubiously as he began to trace the curves and dips in her face. Somehow he imagined he would find her purpose there since words were clearly an elusive creature in her company.

However, her gestures were alight and expressive, telling in their impatience and their restlessness. She grunted once, her hindquarters nearly wagging to and fro like the pendulum of a clock. Like the time, she waited for his understanding before moving onward and upward, never quite settling to help him along, but merely forcing him into the moment. But suddenly, as if she had grown tired of waiting for him to wrap himself around her lack of words, she swung the wing closest to him up toward his face, catching him immediately off guard. Uriel grunted, surprised, before watching the appendage trail down toward his own wingless blade, his breath hitching at the sight.

For a moment he was enraged, totally offended by her boldness and thoughtlessness, but he stifled whatever discontent he harbored in favor of reverting inward, to a place where he was certain he would always be accepted. The girl emitted a high pitched screech, or a yell that further eroded his whittling patience, and Uriel scoffed at the sound. He contemplated leaving her to her own devices, but again her soft warbling caused him to pause. Her face was too kind, too energetic and child-like, for him to act so rashly. So instead of abandoning her in the tunnels, he turned away while he searched for the words that would appease her. “They’ll never grow,” he stated dejectedly. They were sentiments he’d always kept inside, poisonous and foul, but they tasted even worse than he’d imagined. Yet, there was something freeing in their release… even if the feeling was only momentary.