She was not apt to digging.
Apothica was subdued enough by the surface of things, never seeking to swim deeper than she could hold air, never flying higher than what her wings could manage. It wasn’t for a lack of adventure in her soul that the pale pink and black-spotted creature kept herself grounded, where lightning was not likely to strike her, but for a love - an absolute desire - to be alone.
In the quiet, undisturbed hours she could uncover a great many things without having to dig, or swim, or fly to them.
And here! - She found herself approached for speaking out, when silence would’ve led her to that most beloved state of happiness. This was to be her penance for reaching: the stallion fell into a stride with her and struck up a lively sort of question, which Apothica had no immediate reaction or answer to.
“I seem to be walking.” She answered after a minute, blinking in a way that gave attention to the odd markings above and below her eyes.
“Do you go looking for danger?” Apothica asked curiously, checking herself afterward.
She shouldn’t be goading him into further conversation when it felt so obvious that their individual natures clashed against one another, but it couldn’t be helped. It was her own doing, after all. Now she felt obliged by common decency to entertain him, though her eye was sharp and her mind hardened against any instant charms. He was a becoming companion; that, at least, Apothica couldn’t deny.
It was only the temper of the storm at her back that kept the pegasus from lifting off, and the little kindness she harbored for strangers that kept her from explaining she hadn’t meant for him to come along with her. She only hoped (without hoping too much) that the distance between herself and fair weather was short.
Apothica was subdued enough by the surface of things, never seeking to swim deeper than she could hold air, never flying higher than what her wings could manage. It wasn’t for a lack of adventure in her soul that the pale pink and black-spotted creature kept herself grounded, where lightning was not likely to strike her, but for a love - an absolute desire - to be alone.
In the quiet, undisturbed hours she could uncover a great many things without having to dig, or swim, or fly to them.
And here! - She found herself approached for speaking out, when silence would’ve led her to that most beloved state of happiness. This was to be her penance for reaching: the stallion fell into a stride with her and struck up a lively sort of question, which Apothica had no immediate reaction or answer to.
“I seem to be walking.” She answered after a minute, blinking in a way that gave attention to the odd markings above and below her eyes.
“Do you go looking for danger?” Apothica asked curiously, checking herself afterward.
She shouldn’t be goading him into further conversation when it felt so obvious that their individual natures clashed against one another, but it couldn’t be helped. It was her own doing, after all. Now she felt obliged by common decency to entertain him, though her eye was sharp and her mind hardened against any instant charms. He was a becoming companion; that, at least, Apothica couldn’t deny.
It was only the temper of the storm at her back that kept the pegasus from lifting off, and the little kindness she harbored for strangers that kept her from explaining she hadn’t meant for him to come along with her. She only hoped (without hoping too much) that the distance between herself and fair weather was short.
@claudius