He cannot begin to fathom why they do these things to themselves. Love, affection, devotion, consideration. They tangle themselves up in something they believe to be tangible and everlasting, and then unsurprisingly it crashes in around them until the suffocating truth strips bare what had been hidden all along. There is no such thing as a fairytale ending. Life is always swift to remind them of it, but time and time again they brush their fingers against the hope that it could be real, and they seem surprised when it bites them to the point of bleeding. Stupid, careless lot.
The falcon tilts it’s head, one incredibly round, incandescent eye blinking as it observes the breathless stallion. He’d made quite a disturbance in Zeik’s little corner of solitude, crashing through the bracken with reckless abandon as if he were escaping some invisible demon. Zeik has no idea how close he is with such thoughts, he only finds himself ruffled by such a display because the stallion has, through his actions, frightened away any prey the blue-grey bird was hoping to catch. Winter is a burden on any species, and Zeik is especially annoyed by the lack of dignity in the dark horse’s commotion.
With the duck of his head he gathers himself, plummeting off his barren branch so that he can drift to the earth with silent accuracy. Mid-flight he shifts, finding it inconvenient but unavoidable in the given situation. With a heavy thud he lands, a curiously whole blue-roan stallion who now gazes upon the smoky black with a dull, uninterested eye. “I would hope that your actions have good reason driving them, because if not I’ll be tempted to claw your eyes from their sockets for scaring away my hopeful dinner.”
It’s not a threat, that much is clear from the dead tone he delivers his speech with, but Zeik has never been a conversationalist. His umber-colored ears flick back and forth, wondering if indeed the horse is being followed.
ZEIK