"I will see."
Before he could only have guessed how horses looked like. He knew that they stand upon four legs that end in hooves, have a long neck and a muzzle. Yet the sick games had temporary given him the ability to see. In that short amount of time he had seen things he wished he would’ve never seen in his life. She had taken his sight again, but the memories remained. And they haunted him. If he only thought of to the cobblestoned streets the fear crept in immediately. Brynmor would relive the moment and the images would always end with the sick making sight of Jack the Ripper feasting on her intestines. If it was possible he would’ve puked again.
The more he sees and relives the more his anxiousness rises. His senses are numbed, all he can pay attention to is the chaos in his mind. Therefor he doesn’t notice her approach. He doesn’t hear the sound of the snow crackle underneath her hooves, he doesn’t smell her scent that the wind slams against him and neither and neither he does feel the warmth of her body as she now is very close. That is until her muzzle brushes his shoulder. Instantly she brings him out of his trance and she startles him. Snorting loudly he stumbles away, only barely maintaining his balance as the snow makes the ground slippery. Confused and with a racing heart Byrnmor tries to collect himself and as one ears turns backwards against his skull the other turns around as he tries to catch any of the sounds made by here. ’Your own fault for dozing off like that’ He hears the voice in his mind mutters, but he does not pay attention to it. It is the same with her question and instead he asks his own. ”Who are you?” His nostrils are still wide and the muscles of is flank are all tense.
The second voice – third if he would include his own and four if he counts the one of his friend – has his head abruptly turn to the side. Milky white eyes directed in the way he can only guess that the stallion is. ’Aawh, Brynnie, you should’ve seen yourself. Such a little baby that let himself be scared. Isn’t that so familiar?’ That is all what is needed for Brynmor to lose himself in his thoughts again, re-living the fear he had felt during his lone run through the cobblestoned streets while something haunted him. It had been his friend who had played a prank on him. As for the stallions appearance, it had also startled him and the snorting sound and tense muscles are evidence of that. He doesn’t reply, only tensely listening to what things they might do.
"Through your secret."
OOC: Italic is what the imaginairy voice in his head says and colored is what Brynmor himself says.