feels like December knows me well
In pure abandonment of logic and manners, the strange child released a cacophony of giggles into the shadow-thick air between them. Arc could only pin his ears against the sound and sniff back some stray snot, using the giggles as a cover; a part of him felt flimsy and weak for cowering away from a foal so much smaller than he for no other reason than his own feelings of worthlessness; but there was nothing he could do to remedy these things right now.
It comes closer. The taller, broader Arc stomped a front foot in a timid display of discomfort and disapproval of the approach, but did not pursue further discouragement when the thing began to speak again. Instead, his watery silver eyes blinked and flickered away-and-towards the other's piercing yellow ones, seemingly incapable of deciding on looking at one space continuously, as though uncertain of which would be the appropriate choice in this situation. You can't blame him; it weren't as though Scorch taught him these kinds of nuances.
You taste different, the thing enunciated, as though that cleared everything up. It then grinned, to which Arc frowned deeply; when it stepped forward, Arc fought the urge to reach out and bite the thing which seemed to have no sense for personal space. In Arctyrus' world, he never got close to anyone, least of all his mother, who had already weaned him. The closeness made his skin crawl, and he knew he would have to do something to address it before this interaction ended.
"I'm Arctyrus," the colt whined, ears flopping and straightening anxiously. "Will you please back up? I don't like being so close to people - it makes me feel weird, you're making me feel weird!"
@[Haunt]