metaphor
Far beneath the ivory temple, Metaphor watches the world below them. He can see horses milling about, minding their business and going about their daily activities without a care or even seeming to notice the temple overhead. Indeed, this world had been forgotten for some time, and as Amaroq gestures to the thin dust which swirls at their feet, he has to nod in agreement. No one had been here in some time, and there is a bit of a thrill at being one of the first to stumble upon it in god knows how long. What secrets did these walls hold? He wanted to know, but even as the two paced through the temple’s empty halls, they didn’t seem to unlock the mystery.
Perhaps you could be, he murmured in response to Amaroq’s dark humor, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Anything seemed possible in this world. I wouldn’t tell them any differently… There is a quiet that falls between them, easily and unspoken as the wind whispers through the arches. I suppose you’ve come from the sea? Though there was nothing in the kelpie’s appearance to blatantly speak to his water dwelling, the scent of brine and seafoam still clung to the stranger.
I am Metaphor, by the way… healer for the Night Court. It still sounded strange to the stallion, to claim that he was from a place which he’d only known for a short time now. Still, the red stallion knew that the Night Court needed numbers. It would seem they were headed for war, and none could be standing on the outskirts when the dust settled. Whether they wanted it or not, all of the courtesans would be pulled into the battle for Isra’s safe return. Perhaps this is why he breathes a bit easier here, in this forgotten world with no one to interrupt his wandering mind.
He watches the other, waiting for a chip in the wariness but knowing that Amaroq had no reason to trust him. After all, they were simply ships passing in the night – both drawn here for the same reason – mild curiosity and wanderlust.
@Amaroq
