01-27-2018, 06:52 PM
Khaedrik was taken aback immediately by the first thing he saw. A mare. He adverted his eyes, not so much out of awkwardness but out of the fact that she was approaching him. He regarded her with suspicion, it was his experience that anyone who wanted anything to do with him who wasn´t his own family were usually things made up from his nightmares. But she looks nothing like those things – she is adorned with outlandish and vivid coloring, not whisper-black and terrible and thus he deems her company safe for now.
His eyes were as reserved as his thoughts; while he was quick in calculations he was slow in social situations. He was essentially a deer in the headlights, a boar stuck in a trench. He had no polished manners, no proper etiquette. Fundamentally he was an uncut slate. The mare, he thinks, might be safe for now, but he wonders if the same can be said of her shadow. With a flighty, twitching motion he side-stepped into a more proper location; where he could see both of them. (Making sure no moon-blind eye sprung to life amidst the ink-black of it.) With a certain air of induced incredulity he stood silent, his jawline taut with stiffness, staring at her shadow with two beetle-black eyes as she spoke.
”Hello” he echoes, in his lilting child´s voice.
He pauses, unsure what to say. He has never tried to make conversation with anyone outside his own family before, and is mostly thankful that his voice knows how to work. There is a silence in which he is comfortable, but he doubts as much of his companion. Few social creatures are at peace when the only sound is the wind whistling in their ears.
”I´m not lost…I…” he starts – I what, came here to escape the shadows?. Even Khaedrik, in his young age understands that living shadows is probably not a subject fit for first encounters.
In due time, he remembers what mother has thought him of manners.
”I am Khaedrik” the cantankerous child says.
Help me those too-dark eyes beg.
KHAEDRIK