Relief floods through his system, smoothing the lines from his face. ”Thank you.” And he means it, beaming at her happily. It’s the first time in a long time that he hasn’t been this solemn statue, so close to falling apart. She’s an unusual but pleasant distraction that came at just the right time. The tattered edges of her wings flap in the cool breeze, the glass bones glittering in the moonlight as the shadows dance across them. It’s hard to tear his gaze away. It’s almost as if he has turned into a raven that’s found a shiny new object he can’t stand to leave without investigating it first. ”No…” He disagrees, shaking his head and sending his already messy mane into even more disarray. ”No I think they are quite wonderful.” He can’t understand why she is so ashamed of them. Although they are obviously damaged and he realizes that flight must be a near impossibility for her, he still finds them entirely fascinating. ”I’ve always wanted wings… You’re lucky. I think they make you special.”
Wings. Wings that could have granted him escape and an entirely different life. And if they were in bad condition, he wouldn’t care. He would have found a way to make them better. It brings an idea to fruition, one he asks her with a surge of helpfulness. ”With so much magic here, maybe you could mend them someday? Or find someone who can?” Quietly his enthusiasm bubbles down as he sees the forced smile on her lips and the way her quiet name is given with sadness. His own smile begins to fade. Her wings seem to be a touchy subject and he’s once again filled with anxiety, having found a way to upset her again. ”I’m sorry Adaline.” He stammers again, his hoof finding the dirt hole again. ”So what brings you to the Meadow?” Grasping at straws, anything to make this meeting better.
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