She is still wary of him and he is glad – she should be. Too much trust can be your undoing. Inwardly, his stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought.
The copper girl is curious, though. He can feel her warm eyes on him, surveying him carefully and watching every step that he took. She was calculating, almost trying to dissect him with her gaze. He wonders why, though it could be any possible number of reasons that she watches him with her steely gaze. He hopes it is not a bad reason, her cautiousness, but he cannot help but figure that a young filly on her own would not exactly have a beautiful story to tell – at least, not yet.
Warrick stops grazing as she speaks, lifting his head thoughtfully as he listens. He can feel his own heart aching for her, sharing in a pain that they both have experienced. He raises his head, the weariness and pain on his face a bit more noticeable now. It’s not an option for him either, little one.
She is strong-willed and poignant, which is surprising for one at her age. He tilts his head, weighing the question with a sad look on his face, brow furrowing in thought; such a loaded question for such a small child. His eyes reflexively glance upwards (at this point she may even try to follow his gaze, but will be unable to understand the relevance), his voice barely a whisper, grave and somber. “Everything.” His voice is barely a breath on his lips, a simple exhale. Perhaps Iset didn’t even hear his response.
“Maybe I’m the one who is lost, Iset?” His eyes are on her now, a sudden change in emotion filtering across his face (that of unawareness and surprise), blue-tipped ears pricking towards her. It’s a question that he does not know the answer to and knows that she doesn’t hold the answer either.
He wonders if he’s spoken too much, too cerebrally, to just a mere filly. He tosses his head and clears his throat, though his thoughts remain will continue to remain with his original question.
warrick