Getting Acquainted [Morty, any]

[Jesper]

Relief could not come soon enough for the onyx painted Arabian-type equine. Weight shifts back and forth as rump and dock rub against the giant stone. Short layer of wire-type tresses bend askew from the pressure against this cold, hard surface. Lobes rotate in a frenzy with each whoosh of winter’s whip as it churns the fallen foliage and, snaps against his pelt. Despite not having much of a fur coat, the cold did not bother him much. Jesper continues to scratch his itch until acute acoustics pick-up more than just the wind. That voice sent chills down his spine and, in an instant, relief mission vanishes from his agenda. Chassis tenses and limbs stiffen as ears lock on the origin of the words. The words were perfectly harmless; however, the manner in which they reach him – tossed about in a perfectly timed squall of air – set off several red flags in Jesper’s head.
 
Mass shifts off boulder and, redistributes over all four limbs. Raven bronc now stands erect and, on edge, as sky blue orbs focus on the scene before him. He searches for the other being among the tightly packed trees with no success. Cardiac muscle pulses stronger and, respiratory organs expand deeply to expel dramatic puffs from wide nares. Finally, vocal chords thrum together a few words, in a voice that waivers ever so slightly. “I haven’t lived here long.” Gaze continues to search for the invisible speaker while Jesper ponders what might become of this interaction. Some might argue that the great, big unknown is one of the greatest fears. He would not run, but every fiber of his being tells him not to stay.

@[Modicum Mortem]