"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
His response inspires a smile, and she tilts her head to the side curiously while she watches him - waiting for more of an explanation. Ideas bounce around in her head and each second brings a new ridiculous explanation. Was he a shifter like her? There seemed to be so many around, she wouldn’t be surprised. She had met more horses who could shift than those who couldn’t - even a colt that could change the colour of his coat. There isn’t much of an imagination in this young girl but it’s still enough to fill the silence with theories.
So it is disappointing when there is no explanation about what his rough night involved and her smile quickly fades away into a frown.
She takes a moment to just look at this golden boy for a moment before she answers the question he asks of her. His voice is hoarse, as though he had been screaming all through the night, which only intensifies her curiosity. Still, she answers in a rather blunt tone. “Mazikeen.”
Maze-the-doe holds her breath for a moment after speaking her name, as if that will somehow trigger her real-self into being. When it doesn’t, she lets that breath out in an exaggerated ‘humph’ and rolls her orange eyes. “I’m not always a deer but I’ve been stuck like this all night. Bet your night wasn’t worse than that.” Actually she’s pretty sure his must have been - since hers wasn’t bad at all except for this little hiccup - but she’s going to poke until she can get a little more of a reaction.
