morozko
and all our footprints in the snow.
He ought to have seen her sooner - someone that striking. Once your eyes first caught gold she was unmissable, and his gaze did not stray from her again as she drew near. Morozko’s silver eyes find her gold ones and his expression softens, though the line of his mouth is still firm when he reads the amusement plain in her features.
At her laughter - and her use of the word boy, as though he is anything but a stallion grown and tried - he wonders whether he ought to have stuck with the turtle.
But she seems harmless enough, and he’s too new to Novus to jump into making enemies out of neutral encounters. “And a pretty enough one,” he says, and his expression does not give away how he might have meant the words. Let her make assumptions the same as he was.
The mare - more out of place than even he in this swamp, though he couldn’t have said why - makes mention of the beast he’d been watching, and the unicorn glances back over his shoulder. There is no sign of the creature now; only brown water with a sickly sheen and a claw-marked slope of mud. “Turtle?” he repeats, and the thoughtful way he shapes the word makes it clear it’s a foreign one to him. “Is that what you call it?”
There is nothing embarrassed in his features when he faces her again; Morozko is a proud creature, to be sure, but he has never seen shame in ignorance born of lack of experience. But he can still read some of the teasing in her tone, and his mouth shapes an easy smile. “I’ve never run across one before. I was simply impressed with its defense system - such a shield as I haven’t seen. It made me wonder if there’s something dangerous around, but…” he shrugs, dropping his angular head so that he’s looking at her slant-ways. “I guess there’s only you.” His quick grin, then, is a wicked little thing.
Here was another fascinating discovery - Morozko hadn’t expected to have fun out here in the swamp.
He can’t decide if it’s a blessing that she isn’t from the Dusk Court, or trouble.
@Inkheart morozko no
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