you look like yourself
but you're somebody else.
He’s tried a few times to make himself at home somewhere but failed with each attempt to feel a connection. Coming back to his birthplace had been like dropping anchor and hoping to stop among the eddies but the anchor never stopped, just dragged uselessly along the bottom as he floated aimlessly on. It is far too early an acquaintance for the red stallion to consciously register it, but at some point in the fleeting minutes between their meeting and the flash of weak light across her golden face something catches.
Chryseis tilts her her head and their eyes catch, because he hasn’t stopped watching her (though he does his best to do so casually) as they kept pace along the riverbank. Green eyes narrow a fraction in turn and they fly forward. He is fleet, and longer legged and considers (very briefly) holding back but Chryseis accelerates with unexpected spirit that easily leaves Aldric fighting for ground. They are a thunder of flying hooves in the dark quiet forest that indistinctly flashes past, sometimes a rapid part of the river is loud enough to drown them out but mostly it is their locomotive breathing that fills his ears.
The roan girl is ahead when they reach the first dangling tendrils of the slender leaved willow, still he doesn’t stop until she does, doesn’t draw up until she chooses to end the race beneath the broad old branches. Aldric tosses his head, and circles the gnarled trunk until he is lead back to Chryseis. Endorphins perhaps make him brazen but he brushes his muzzle along the line of her shoulder when he draws close. He side steps almost immediately, though not too far, just enough not to crowd. The river is quiet here, but still their breathing is loud in his ears.
only it aint on the surface
Aldric
@[Chryseis]