Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
She’s smart, this one. Just like he’d said.
Tell me: when someone has nothing left to live for and life won’t let them go ... what do they look for? What wakes them up in the morning, keeps them eating or breathing like the rest? You’ve outlived your family, or if you haven’t soon enough you will. Children, friends, all the rest - eventually they go too. But not you.
Crevan has seen other immortals. He hasn’t been one himself for long, but as a wolf he sees the world … differently from them. They become increasingly easier to spot. A few live their past lives over, just with new faces and new ‘homes’. These are the ones he supposes can still feel pain, lucky bastards. The ones like Sinner … they ring in close to where Crevan lies on the spectrum of undead.
What keeps him living, in a world where he had no life?
“It’s nice to meet you Crevan,” The winged mare supplies, like an automaton. He uses the moment of brief interlude after this polite response to gain full motion of his legs, walking off a few feet in silence because he expects there to be some sort of follow-up. “Don’t let me keep you from …” And here his head tilts back, a muddy cheek pressed to his neck as he scrutinizes her, “whatever it was you were doing.”
He smiles.
His forelegs cross one another and then the bulk of his body has shifted around with them. He can see her clearly now, and again he finds that he likes it. “Do you think,” He starts, slowly, “that if I attacked you, you could kill me?”
It’s an honest question, one he’s only asked a handful of times. Her demeanor is deserving of the challenge, he thinks. For a second the stocky horse observes her in lax silence and he wonders if he might have actually found a magician. It would make his day.
Then he changes his mind. “Nevermind.” He barks, “Not sure that it matters either way.” The shifter sighs, knowing then that his search will continue for another day, or another year, or another millennia. Crevan decides to move on. “You weren’t keeping me from anything. I’ve gotten my answers.” He tells her, gritting his teeth and folding his brow in concentration. A shudder of alien movement ripples across his skin, and then his expression clears and those intrepid, dark eyes of his are searching her face again.
“Nice pair of wings, but with the weather I’m guessing Loess, Hyaline? I didn’t see you land.” The stallion muses, wondering how she’ll take that. “My family lived in Hyaline, once.” He sprinkles on top, his navy eyes hardly blinking when Crevan finally holds his tongue.
@[Solace]