Gale
11-16-2019, 09:27 AM
He can tell the moment she sees the colorful snowflakes, though the knowledge does not come from watching them through her eyes. Rather, she radiates her happiness, and the pegasus is drawn to it like a moth to a flame. That she is not looking where she is going does not bother him, if anything he is enchanted by her unbridled enthusiasm, and the grin he wears is as bright as her own. Though his ears do flick back at the volume of her elation, he does not move away, not even as she runs a curious nose over him. He shivers, a combination of the cold and the hairy whiskers of her nose on his thin hide, but does not draw away.
Affection feel natural, and in that he does find a flash of memory. A close family, where physical touch comes easily and without thought; that is where he comes from. If only he could remember exactly who that family was. It’s easy to forget the frustration of not knowing though, especially when faced with this delighted brown creature.
“I did,” he tells her with a smile. “I made it.”
This close, he finds that the little brown mare does not smell quite like Beqanna, and he returns her curious sniffing with some of his own. There’s something different, like a place that is not a place, but perhaps was. She looks real though, and certainly sounds real, so perhaps that is simply what horses smell like when they are from other places. “I’m Blue,” he tells her as he pulls back, the name coming easily to him. It’s what he has called himself for the past six months, and it is the only name he knows. “What’s your name?”
@[Bean]
Affection feel natural, and in that he does find a flash of memory. A close family, where physical touch comes easily and without thought; that is where he comes from. If only he could remember exactly who that family was. It’s easy to forget the frustration of not knowing though, especially when faced with this delighted brown creature.
“I did,” he tells her with a smile. “I made it.”
This close, he finds that the little brown mare does not smell quite like Beqanna, and he returns her curious sniffing with some of his own. There’s something different, like a place that is not a place, but perhaps was. She looks real though, and certainly sounds real, so perhaps that is simply what horses smell like when they are from other places. “I’m Blue,” he tells her as he pulls back, the name coming easily to him. It’s what he has called himself for the past six months, and it is the only name he knows. “What’s your name?”
@[Bean]