My humor is not lost on Reich, which I find myself immeasurably grateful for. Sometimes I think I'm being funny and really I'm just being a moron. Part of me cares deeply, for I want to have a certain amount of respect, but part of me gives no shits. (Really, there's a very fine line.) Reich's laughter is immediate acceptance and approval, and I grin back at the bay. He tugs back at my two-toned mane and my neck gives, bending gently to the force. I thrust my nose at him to nudge him in return, careful to not accidentally stab him with the spikes on my face. (They're fun, but pointy.)
In all this mirth and gaiety I'm surprised to hear Reich beg the question of why I must live in Solterra. The land of burning sun and unforgiving desert heat. That instead, I should come live in Denocte. It's not a bad question, for I never took much to Dragon's Throat in Helovia. The desert never called to me there, nor the Sun God. No, I had lived first as an outcast, then within the earthy walls of the Hidden Falls. Solterra did not make much sense for me, except for the grandiose feeling I got when I was there. Then he said 'gypsy girls'. My eyes glazed over as my imagination took over, and it took a good thirty seconds before my senses returned. "Gypsy girls! That IS tempting..." But what about Weir? She's not gypsy girl but she is rather.. lovely.. My expression turned serious as I weighed the choices. "Let me think about it." I spoke with due respect. "It seems not a most whimsical matter, and I'd hate to make decisions without knowing as much as I can." I glanced north toward the place I had just thought to call 'home'. "Besides, I've barely been there. Yes, let me think and I will return to you with an answer."
The moment of gravitas comes to an abrupt end as there's a loud splash to my left, down the beach. I lift my head and my ears swivel - forward, back, forward again! -, alerting to the sudden noise. I am surprised I did not notice the approach of this other beast. But his spelunking in the sea remedies that situation immediately. I take in the sight of a somewhat drowned-looking chestnut paint, approaching us as he laughs at the nature of the sea (I suppose). I turn my rump away from the sea, facing the strange stallion. He asks how I did it.. and his next comment reveals the nature of the question. How did I not mind the temperature of the sea? I imitate a shrug, ears swiveling backward in disturbed contemplation at the strange apparition. "Didn't think it was that cold." I don't understand his next comment, but infer it was about my Sea Breeze/Rostislav shot joke. Hmm. "Who are you?" My voice is a little more gruff but not unkind, irritation at my suddenly-important conversation with Reich having been disturbed coloring the vocals. I glance at my stalwart Denocte companion to see if he recognizes the newcomer.
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WC: 525 Tag: @Reichenbach OOC: ahh sorry he's a little rude, flight!
