TAMRAN
THE FAITHFUL
THE FAITHFUL
There were none who could and would call the dune-striped boy 'brave' by any stretch of the imagination, not even the boy himself. As fascinated with the snow he had been, as fascinated by the strange-winged equines and their equally strange creation-he heard the word 'snowman' lobbed about a fair bit, what on earth was a 'snowman'?- as he had been, when he felt the serpent-cruel presence of the Day Court Regent by his side, felt others begin to cluster around him... it had been too much for him. There was too little space, and he had tried to create more by shrinking in on himself, but that merely drew him against the Regent's side, and he flinched away the moment he grew too close-sharp, her eyes were sharp and the threat of the spear moreso-, eventually managing to slip away from the growing throng.
Among such revelry, the sandy youth found no peace, no rest, no solace.
Into the silence and solitude of the forest he fled, cloven hooves striking out a swift beat to carry him on his flight far from that din of socialization he feared. He did not stop, did not rest, until nothing but the sound of his hoofbeats could be heard in his ears, until when he stood still there was only the soft sounds of the forest. It was foolish, that fear, and he knew it well, but all the same he couldn't help the crawling sensation up his spine as bodies began pressing closer-nevermind that they really weren't all that close, in truth- until he felt that crawling turn to claws gripping his stammering heart and lungs. It made him look weak, especially in front of his Regent of all people, but he surrendered to that weakness for resisting it was so much harder. Now alone in the quiet and loneliness of the forest, he could pretend for a moment he wasn't weak, skittish, nervous, broken or any of the words relating. He could pretend the world was fine, that his past had fallen away in the snow, that he walked across the white wood a free man, free of worry and fear and the chains that bound his spirit.
Of course the illusion shattered with shocking, mournful ease. A voice drifted through the trees, and a part of Tamran's heart lamented at the loss of privacy and pretending as his head turned to catch that sound, ears pricked in alarm and alertness, eyes scouring for the source of the noise trespassing the silence of the forest. He found it; the originator of the 'snowman' madness, the youth with slender dancer's legs and pearly white-snow wings on his ankles. All of a sudden the other turned his head and looked at him, and Tamran froze like a doe in the headlights as the other youth approached, nickering out a soft greeting. For awkward span Tam hesitated, ears flicking back, then forward, then back again before at the pied stallion's question he gave a short and quick bob of his head, his lantern clicking against the dark material of his horn. "Ah, yes! It was strange indeed." He stammered out, trying to not let his confusion show. He had left before the snowman began dancing about, but seeing a large group of equines standing around a strange triad of spheres made out of snow was weird enough in his book.
"You mean talking... snowmen aren't common here?" He asked quietly, ears flicking back. Talking snowmen... what strange place had he fallen into?
@Ipomoea - SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT tam is weird
