It wasn't possible for the alabaster mare to look any less threatening. While she did tower over him, at least for now, every inch of her posture suggested that she was not here to cause harm, verbally or physically. Exhaling a breath that he had not been aware of holding, the colt forced himself to shift where he stood, doing his best to relax.
The silvery dragon had made home around his leg, and Mesec could not help but to smile at the creature's display of affection. It was a welcome change to how one often reacted to him, though in a way, he supposed he and Tinek were not so different. "I like him," the colt replied with a gentle smile, lifting his gaze from the stygian and back to Ophelia.
When she began to speak again, Mesec's ears twisted forward with genuine interest, his tears finally beginning to dry and keep at bay. She spoke of her parents, one an equine and one a unicorn, of herself being half of each. Mesec's own mother was much like himself, possessing both wings and a horn, while his father held only the traits of the latter. He loved them both dearly, despite leaving d'Artagnan and the rest, and having spoken with the Goddess only once since she'd left him at the Mender's feet... Maybe Mesec was just too forgiving.
Although he had only met them a few short moments ago, the dark colt could tell that the bond between these two was powerful and everlasting. What would life be for Ophelia, for Tinek, if they had never grown so close together? Much different, he guessed, but that was a topic for another time. Right now, he had to focus on what to do, and what his future might hold for him.
There wasn't a doubt in Mesec's mind that he was special and unique; his mother was the Goddess of the Moon, after all, and there was only one other that he could recall that shared both wings and a horn. He didn't boast his differences, though, for unlike those in the Basin, he was more interested in the simple aspects of an individual, such as their personality. It had never been that easy, though.
Now, she spoke of her homeland, a place called the Foothills. He'd never heard of the land until now, but it had his interest nonetheless. To think that he could finally venture away from this unforgiving land was a godsend, and the colt could barely contain himself from blurting that, yes, he would love to go. Could Ophelia promise that he would not feel the same kind of heartache that he had in the Basin? That he would not be ostracized and stared at for his appearance?
Breathing a sigh, Mesec lifted his head up, taking on the stance of not a pathetic, whimpering boy, but a colt who was ready to move on in life and put everything behind him. "I would like to join you in the Foothills, Ophelia," the said at last, "Maybe you could tell me of the other lands on our way?"
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