[open] My home was never on the ground || Tin Man, any

[The Tin Man]

Hearts will never be practical,
until they can be unbreakable.
(But I still want one.)

"Yeah, but it's not like I got kicked out of a herd; that would assume I joined one to start with. I started living in Loess a while back, but... it didn't really stick, I think." It didn't help that his most vivid memories were of the plague hitting, and the lizard who gave him the sickness, which rattled him more than he liked and hammered home his natural instincts to move, move, move.

Her offer to stay surprises him, though he's too used to roaming yet to decide. It DOES pull at him, though, especially with the darkness hitting for so long. His old life with humans is starting to fade, bits and pieces shaking loose--but he knows they are mid-sized predators, who get hunted by larger creatures as often as they went hunting for deer or rabbits. They can't see in the dark, stumbling around for a few minutes before their eyes adjusted (and still not well, with how his owner squinted and kept a hand in his mane for reassurance)--but they also had all sorts of fires to help. "I wasn't born in Beqanna; I washed up here from the outside."

It surprises him to say that out loud; he's never done so on his own accord. As far as he remembered, native horses mostly remarked on how unused to magic he'd first been, how obvious it was that he'd come from the outside, but everyone thankfully seemed neutral about it. Everyone needs to keep the gene pool fresh, after all.

"I was from... eh, never mind." A paw at the ground. "I can't really remember." It's half-true, for the specifics would need to be jogged again--he remembers a place called California, the northern half with warm summers and cold, rainy winters. But that was as useful as saying "I had a good pasture and other horses around."

The Tin Man

@[Starsonder]