I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness,
nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory
He is expecting a hostile response, or at least a nervous one, but what he absolutely isn’t expecting is for Tickaani to start giggling like he isn’t deadly serious. Keeper’s response is more reassuring, as she reaches out to touch him again, her voice calming and still friendly. The touch she offers is soothing as well; he has lived many months amongst horses outside of Beqanna, and their focus on more touch and body language is second nature to him now, while the often hands-off approach of his native people is somewhat off-putting. He hesitantly offers her a smile, and then turns questioning green eyes towards Tickaani.
Whatever he sees there, it isn’t a threat. With Keeper so close to him anyway, her presence soothing and easy, he can’t see the blue roan mare attacking him; it’s not like she started spewing hateful or angry words when he made his admission, just disbelief. And he doesn't blame her; if he had not grown up here, this might be baffling to him as well. It is perhaps the hardest thing for newcomers to grasp, this menagerie of powers that the natives display.
He doesn’t want to be the center of their attention, but he senses that they won’t make any progress until this gets cleared up. Thankfully, he has something less scary that he can do instead. Something…fun. “I can show you something else,” Ryan offers quietly, leaning into Keeper’s offered shoulder for a bit of reassurance. “Less…practical, I guess, but it’s typical of folks around here.” And then he takes a breath, looks at Tickaani again for a moment of more intense observation, and then he simply matches her. The blue roan ripples across his gold and purple from ear tips to tail tip, his coat becoming a perfect mimicry of hers - only the green eyes remain to tell them apart.
“I could show you my panther, too, if you’d like.” He offers it slowly, head tilted, hesitant.
Ryan
( I love only that which they defend. )