Shuler catches wind of the stranger before he sees him. Part of the scent is familiar, it reminds him of Psyche in some ways, but he would be daft to think it was her knowing she was currently being held in the Dragons Throat against her will. His lolling gait eases to a slow, unhurried stop once the small equine comes into view, and instinctively Shuler’s eyes narrow in instant suspicion. With a quick study of the small creature the phantom can surmise that he is of no immediate threat. However, his ever waxing curiosity cannot help but wonder why any of his herd mates had let the scrawny individual through the pass and into the basin. Shuler assumes the smell of familiarity that hangs and saturates the air around him might be an indication that he does belong here, for some rhyme or reason he has yet to hear of. Black tipped ears flip forward to catch the whispers of a mutter that slither past the equines nervous lips, and a pleasant feeling of satisfaction settles in Shuler’s chest at the look of reverently instilled fear that dances across the tiny horse’s eyes at his presence.
“Greetings,” Shuler’s voice is laced with nothing but good intentions, betraying no hint of emotion, his very best mask of ambiguity in place, “You seem familiar, albeit out of place, but I’m afraid I cannot recall your name. I am Shuler.”
Ask questions first, act later. If this small, fear struck equine had no business being in the Aurora Basin, Shuler would see that he was removed accordingly. But first he would make sure there wasn’t anything he needed to hear first before doing so. The opportunities for garnering information were endless, and he would leave no rock unturned or trail undiscovered. Any information, whether it be from Lady Psyche herself, or this lowly equine, was valuable. Information led to knowledge. And knowledge, above all things, was the ultimate power. In an attempt to create a false sense of comfort for the flighty horse, Shuler put on an air of bored indifference, allowing himself to snag a few blades of grass with a quick snap of his teeth. It was something he could have done in a few words, a simple lie, allowing his magic to work his way into this other stallion’s mind, but Shuler preferred to let his natural talent shine.
The dun unicorn’s barbed horn whisked across the tips of the tallest blades that had stretched their way out of the once frosty Aurora Basin soil as he continued to pick at what the earth had to offer, gilded brown eyes bright with intrigue, and the gears in his head shifting, ready to play the game he knew so well.
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
