TIERCEL
Everything here looked wet and limp. Even Tiercel felt it. Small clumps of brown ice covered his fetlocks and were balled up in the hollow pockets under his hooves. Strands of frozen dirt clumped the ends of his mane together, obscuring the whiteness. He looked around and appreciated the silence for its rarity, admired the emptiness of the Field with a slow-burning grin and then turned to glare at the crunching sound of another horse approaching.
Kensa was there; she was a smaller yet incredibly attractive little mare. Lines of gold winked across her skin in the dim, gray light. She stood out from her surroundings painfully, bringing an abnormal sort of beauty with her. Tiercel had seen flaxen horses before, but Kensa wore a marbling coat and the strands of her hair were glossy, polished platinum. There was nothing plain about her, anywhere.
“Hey,” He smiled elusively,“I’m Tiercel.”
What was she doing here? He wondered, looking. He would’ve sat there and wondered a bit longer but his magic knew the answer instinctually. They shared curiosity, and Kensa’s was faint. It’s not so much that he reads her; Tiercel doesn’t have powers that tap into the spiritual, like an empath did. His magic was more like a weak form of illusionism in his opinion. Her mild curiosity was like a splinter of magic itself, a shard of a mirror, and Tiercel could not only sense it but reflect it.
“Feeling good today?” The cheeky stud wondered. His dark mouth twisted and clenched back a grin. He shook it away and some ice as well, quickly and quietly pulling the wave of tranquility back, stomping his hooves to clear the frozen grime and keep himself warm. He wasn’t sure what to do with their shared ‘curiosity’ just yet, only that he didn’t mind if Kensa felt their mutual interest. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to do anything with ‘it’ at all. Tiercel let it rest.
It's the same way you showed me // Nod my head, don't close my eyes
@[Kensa]