Sin Killer stiffened a bit as the filly came closer, closing the gap between their nearly identical bodies. He arched his neck around to follow her as she moves her muzzle to his shoulder and nibbles. A chill went through his little body, but he did not pull away. He'd never been shy of physical contact, even with those he wasn't sure about.
"Just you, so far," he answered honestly, blinking at Novel with a look of dubiety. "Mostly everyone else is kinda all the same." His words were said almost accusingly, as if he thought perhaps she were some sort of impostor.
And perhaps she was. His papa had told him plenty about the evils of "traited" horses. And while he was still learning what, exactly, made a "traited" horse, he felt sure that this filly was some sort of bad news.
Her answer to his question, however, seemed to make him feel a little better. If she lived here, surely she was fairly normal, right?
Sin took a step back, leveling his curious gaze at Novel. "Don't you... play?" One of his favorite things in the world was to run and race -- though his newfound love for sparring had begun to filter through into his personality, as he got older. But this creature seemed so sober and serious, he had a hard time imagining her laughing or having fun of any sort.
Stock credit: lumibear @ dA