Grey grunts noncommittally at the younger man's exclamations of luck. Their definitions of luck are quite different, he assumes, for the unicorn does not feel very lucky at all. Cursed by this damned land's bizarre magic that makes glowing pools in the middle of nowhere. Nearly landing himself in a rushing, freezing river. If this is luck, then Grey has been lucky all his life and he doesn't like it all. Perhaps if he had been born unlucky his lot in life would be different.
None of the places that the pegasus speaks of mean anything to the older equine. Only Novus, and even then it is the only name Amaranthus gave him to go off of. So. Now he is here, but what is he meant to do? A frown turns down the corners of his lips. Clearly it is too much to hope the answer to that question will come easy. “A pleasure, Mateo,” but there is nothing particularly warm about him that says it is indeed a pleasure, “I am Grey.”
“Just Grey,” for while his companion might be a scholar and a songwriter, the unicorn is nothing. Not a warrior, not a brother, not a friend. Perhaps he had been these things in the past, but now he was a broken man, with a whole world of regrets inside and behind him.
Mateo turns away from Grey and begins to lead him, he can only assume, to this court proper. The Dawn Court, he had called it. Oh, but Grey is so unprepared for the question that the younger man asks that he nearly stumbles and stops walking. If Mateo were to look at him he might see a shadow pass over his expression, not unlike the ones still lurking at the edges of his vision. He frowns again, and when he speaks his voice says he is decidedly not interested in continuing this line of conversation.
“I am merely searching for something that a… friend said I would find here.” He thinks of Amaranthus and the emptiness inside him grows ever deeper and wider, a chasm impossible to cross. He thinks of the way the god has held him and loved him and knows he never deserved any of it. Still, he has let so many down in his life that he cannot bear to do it again to the man who had tried so hard to warm his long-frozen heart.
@Mateo c:
