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Supposing there is no harm in trying, and hoping to put the colt at ease again, he nods in response to the desperate question. If nothing else, the trip would be good exercise, and give him a chance to explore Helovia a bit more. Dark muzzle lightly bumps against Cera’s, and he smiles in an attempt to comfort the babe. If possible, he would tell the little one not to worry, let him know that the twisted bone is not as painful as it looks, as long as the buckskin is careful. He cannot, however, and that is the real curse in his mind. To be unable to communicate verbally, to be limited to gestures and body posture, is frustrating, far worse than the pain that occasionally lances through his face.
He keeps his thoughts from showing on his features, maintaining a reassuring expression for the colt. Despite his years of isolation, he seems to have a knack for taking care of others. An odd talent for a supposed monster, but one he readily accepts. Maybe it was because of his own cruel life, he thinks. Knowing what it is like to be left to fend for himself, he hates the thought of others sharing a similar fate. It is the only explanation he can think of for his newfound protective instincts, and content with the answer, he turns his attention back to Cera, wondering if the foal is warm enough to travel now.
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Fragility and Freezing Cold [Open, Adults?]
