The more time she spends in his company, Pleni feels progressively more aware. But not in the kind of way that's reassuring, this consciousness was quite pale in comparison upon her arrival. Perhaps she was coming to? Maybe she really did bump her head on the descent, and now more than ever, she feels ashamed, unsure where to place her eyes, shuffling her weight back and forth between her hooves like she wanted the earth to swallow her up and forget this interaction. He seems pleasant enough she thinks, now she feels pity for him, not as much for herself. As the sun sinks, if it weren't for the stallions dappled grey, he blended perfectly against the sky, the sunsets colors equal to his ombre accents. She admired this, though subtly, his grey welcomed the night to come. Real or not, he continues to surprise her with his words. The slew of questions buds the longer he reveals himself, this time she doesn't suppress the curiosity that morphs her face. "I am her diviner," Pleni knew of magic and it's many forms, to be blessed with the moons idea of a muse, a reverie subjected to the wonders of the divine. A beautiful gift, her thoughts show plainly on her features, eventually making their way to her mouth. "A splendid gift you have, how does it work Ruhr?" She clears her throat, unsure if she made herself clear. "I mean, how does your gift manifest?"
How lucky she was to meet such an equine, the moon must be showing her appreciation, taking the suns place in her glow, beautifully igniting the coming night. What beauty it was, the meadow still radiant in the dimness. The lands allure gives her a chance to overlook the scorching dryness plaguing her throat, the weakness in her legs makes the pastel mare force right through, plunging through the pain and into the stallions metaphorical arms. He claims he's real, she should believe him for many reasons, for the sake of her sanity, or maybe the torment twisting her gut is enough of a reminder that this is very real. He seems amused by her lack of differentiating this reality, she supposes it's better than commending her for it. Still, she feels ludicrous for her speculation, though she couldn't blame herself, death crept at her door, one foot in the frame. She likes to think he could be her savior in her decline, so she decides to treat him as so, stranger or not.
She wonders if his gift consists of peering into her head, it's like he knows what she wanted as he extends one of his avian pinions towards her in an invitation to satiate her doubts. It is what she wanted, needed, but now that he's proposing his authenticity, she finds herself frozen. The faintest of smiles graces her lips as she gathers the courage to meet him in the middle, unfurling the tips of her feathers to brush his. At the contact, she adverts her gaze to the grasses below, though the sensation is soft as expected, real as expected. "Thank you.." Gently she offers her thanks, strange as it is on her tongue, she means it. The venerability tastes sweet, but not sweet enough for her to dive into it. He speaks of the meadow with familiarity, though she differs entirely. She doesn't know where she ended up, but a new start ignites something inside her bones, it's a sense of belonging she desperately longed for. Until recently, Pleni is hesitant of grasping too tight, the act hasn't gotten her anywhere, so she tries to remain indifferent. "I do not know of these lands, do you live here Ruhr? Theres others?" Pleni shakes out her hide, perhaps to shake the feeling of his touch, perhaps to rid herself of the fatigue. "My name is Plenilune." She blinks slowly, dipping her head in greeting.
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Ruhr