 When the horned stranger made no move to stand, Charlemagne let his muscles ease. When he grinned and spoke like a slow, lazy river, the unicorn lifted his head and whisked his tail, satisfied that there would be no punishment for the near-stumble. At home, it would have let to a verbal lashing or worse. But you’re not home. Well, now he felt a little silly, but his buoyant mood began to return nonetheless. Knowing the stranger didn’t live here made his bungled first impression sting a little less. Even if he didn’t know where here was, or if he himself would be staying, Charlemagne was relieved to think the other male would eventually be moving on. “I’ve only just arrived,” he answered primly, which was the best way to avoid the question that he could think of. He’d yet to meet anyone who could tell him what this place was, and whether he belonged at all. Being caught out in a lie would be an inauspicious start indeed, worse, even, then tripping over a dozing stallion. His heart had returned to its usual rhythm by now, and curiosity began to overtake caution. A meadowlark breezed by, in full-throated song, and Charlemagne cocked his head and settled his green-eyed gaze on the stranger’s. “What brings you to this meadow, then?” The unicorn could not quite bring himself to ask where is here, anyway? |
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@Camdis hello hello! please excuse the roughness, I'm still getting the hang of him
