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05-03-2016, 09:50 PM
He know when someone steps up in the road behind him. It's prey instinct- guardian's instinct. Yet there isn't a hot scent of fur and musk and slaver so he continues on for a stride or two, feining ignorance until he slows to an awkward walk, then stops. His head swings around. Head low, ears akimble. In the dappled light his eyes were pale rose, without the hints of lavender the bright sunlight brought out. Then he sees him. A silver sliver of memory ripped from his dreams. Seanan has not seen the metallic glow on any creature since he left the lands of the desert that birthed him.
His head snaps up, body performing an abrupt serpentine curve to bring him about to face this new stallion. His nostrils flare wide, hooded eyes widening to flash whites around. He is half-wild. One seashell hoof raises as if in question.
Backwards or forwards?
The long legged elder seems to shift back, then abruptly the hoof swings forward, one long stride that decisively changes his momentum towards the younger. His skin shivers, though from the cool air or this chance meeting is uncertain. For one moment, the stallion seems to have regained the dignity of his blood, a child of wind and sand and sun. A long moment of silence passes before the words spoke register in his long ears.
"No." The words are spoken in a soft voice, somewhat high for the stallion's size. Which question he is answering. "I am not lost."
The tenseness evaporates from his lean figure. His ragged gossamer tail twitches up to brush at his flank as though to harry an insect. His head tilts to the side, one ear seeming to dangle listless while the other perks towards the silver steed. Seanan sidles sideways, a drunken shift that's oddly graceful despite the awkward way he criss crosses his steps.
"No, I don't think so- are there others like you about? This seems a cold place for a heat-dream." The words tumble from his throat, each one coming hard on the heels of the one before until abruptly he stops. Then the gaunt beast shakes his head at the end of his over-long neck, eyes half-closed and sleepy again, though the whites flash in the corners.
His head snaps up, body performing an abrupt serpentine curve to bring him about to face this new stallion. His nostrils flare wide, hooded eyes widening to flash whites around. He is half-wild. One seashell hoof raises as if in question.
Backwards or forwards?
The long legged elder seems to shift back, then abruptly the hoof swings forward, one long stride that decisively changes his momentum towards the younger. His skin shivers, though from the cool air or this chance meeting is uncertain. For one moment, the stallion seems to have regained the dignity of his blood, a child of wind and sand and sun. A long moment of silence passes before the words spoke register in his long ears.
"No." The words are spoken in a soft voice, somewhat high for the stallion's size. Which question he is answering. "I am not lost."
The tenseness evaporates from his lean figure. His ragged gossamer tail twitches up to brush at his flank as though to harry an insect. His head tilts to the side, one ear seeming to dangle listless while the other perks towards the silver steed. Seanan sidles sideways, a drunken shift that's oddly graceful despite the awkward way he criss crosses his steps.
"No, I don't think so- are there others like you about? This seems a cold place for a heat-dream." The words tumble from his throat, each one coming hard on the heels of the one before until abruptly he stops. Then the gaunt beast shakes his head at the end of his over-long neck, eyes half-closed and sleepy again, though the whites flash in the corners.
