ENGINEERS CREATE THAT WHICH HAS NEVER BEEN


A sound of life carried through the vast expanse of nothing, and the engineer's dark ear ticked in rapid response. Moment's later, the angle of his shadowed features followed, a brighter glint of recognition in the bronze, mad eyes. Though they had never formally met, the bearded brute could not forget the striking features of the mare that seemed to grow larger as she approached. Her name escaped him. During his stint with the unicorn supremists, Ulrik had been more concerned with the unique and intoxicating seductive techniques of Lotus and the lack of resolve he felt from the Ice King.

Part of him had to realize that herd life was perhaps never for him again. The stallion had grown up as a nomad, and staying in the Edge was the first time he had ever been able to call anywhere home. To some, that sense of security, familiarity and belonging was a comfort, but to Ulrik, it was a prison. The responsibility to return to one location over and over again was madness in his mind, the repetition was mind numbing to the point of explosion. Ulrik did not blame those who preferred security however; to each his own.

Cloven, bronze hooves, much larger than the antlered counterparts of that genetic feature, crunched in the snow, feathers quickly getting drenched from the light of the sun turning ice to water. The stallion was not about to have the mare travel the entire distance to their inevitable meeting and appear to be an ass, though the term fit him quite well. Awkward and intimidating also seemed to work well enough as descriptors. Ulrik paused when he was an acceptable distance away, the metal contraption at his heels jolting to a halt and whirring at his side.

As a habit of speaking to his massive and muscle bound relatives, Ulrik normally held his neck high on his withers, but as he assumed his halted stance and looked down, he realized that this position was ill suited for the smaller mare. Instead, he cocked his weight onto one hip and shrugged his weight lower onto his shoulders, bringing his face downward. The chilled breeze rustled the bronze and charcoal beard, and he met the tarnished silver orbs in front of him; they reminded him of metal. Intriguing.

"You could say that," he growled back, expression always rather stony. Emotions were so rarely felt that they even more rarely made a line on his face. "I do not remember your name," he said, searching his mind and coming up empty. "You are the only one here? Did the herd move?" he asked. Despite the fact that he would not want to join the group, he was a member of the external, secret faction of supremists. He figured it would be a good idea to actually do something toward that association.