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He can breathe again now.
There's a little room, not much, and he can see the sky. That is more important he realizes than almost anything else. It's not even a matter of being able to see to the horizon- it's being able to see the sky. For a moment the wait of that revelation weighs on him as his eyes again travel up, only to be recalled back to his temporary companion by her speech. He recalls the Threshold. It had not seemed so closed in, but it had been wet. But then, everywhere here was.
"It sounds beautiful." His words are earnest. There is a touch more confidence in his stance now, his caution gradually fading as the sun warmed his shade-chilled skin and their conversation continued along this pleasant and nonthreatening vein. She had done no threatening, not even approaching closely as had the desert-born stallion he'd met when he first wandered into the Threshold.
And it was nice, for the moment, not to be alone.
Still, he hesitates to answer her. He does not want to lie. The pause drags uncomfortably long, as he rolls words over in his head, burying the wicked serpent that rears up in his gut at the thought of what he sought.
"Someone stole what was mine. I have been told they may be found here." The answer is... dry. Devoid of the emotions that have clearly colored the rest of his speech. It is flat, almost leaning towards wry except for the brief backwards lay of his ears.
@Lyanna
There's a little room, not much, and he can see the sky. That is more important he realizes than almost anything else. It's not even a matter of being able to see to the horizon- it's being able to see the sky. For a moment the wait of that revelation weighs on him as his eyes again travel up, only to be recalled back to his temporary companion by her speech. He recalls the Threshold. It had not seemed so closed in, but it had been wet. But then, everywhere here was.
"It sounds beautiful." His words are earnest. There is a touch more confidence in his stance now, his caution gradually fading as the sun warmed his shade-chilled skin and their conversation continued along this pleasant and nonthreatening vein. She had done no threatening, not even approaching closely as had the desert-born stallion he'd met when he first wandered into the Threshold.
And it was nice, for the moment, not to be alone.
Still, he hesitates to answer her. He does not want to lie. The pause drags uncomfortably long, as he rolls words over in his head, burying the wicked serpent that rears up in his gut at the thought of what he sought.
"Someone stole what was mine. I have been told they may be found here." The answer is... dry. Devoid of the emotions that have clearly colored the rest of his speech. It is flat, almost leaning towards wry except for the brief backwards lay of his ears.
@Lyanna
All interactions are go, short of death and permanent crippling.
