Raglan
may the bridges i burn light the way
He hoped she showed.
Raglan’s experience with females that weren’t Crows or Bexley Briar was scarce to say the least, and although he sauntered and puffed his chest with the best of them, he knew next to nothing about making what Locke would call Lady Friends. So while the younger stallion couldn’t utter the phrase without a wink or a teasing grin, the Crow supposed that “Lady Friend” was the best descriptor of what he hoped Euphrosyne could become — she was definitely a lady and he’d like to be her friend. Breathing deep into his chest, the horned stallion shifted his weight from left to right and glanced at the moon as if it would tell him how to sit still.
When the pair had met, Euphrosyne had caught Raglan’s attention right away, even despite the second mare present. She had seemed so genuine, even when she had tried to brush him off, and he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about how her second pair of wings affected the mechanics of flying. Of course, the sunset maiden was also beautiful, but Raglan supposed that was rather low on his reasons for interest; Terrastella, let alone all of Novus, had no shortage of beautiful women, and shockingly pretty equines were almost happenstance now.
He supposed it was something in the water, but he couldn’t be sure.
No, Euphrosyne wasn’t just a pretty face, she was someone who had experienced emotion in it’s rawest and life in its greatest — or maybe that was just Raglan’s own hopes rubbing off on a stranger. Was that rude of him? To assume that she really was just as interesting as he thought she was after only a few moments of interaction? He bobbed his head in a show of agitation; the horned lad knew that he would think well of her no matter how much or how little of life’s dramatics she had seen, but he hadn’t considered... well, anything about how to find that out.
With the Crows, with Reichenbach, with Bexley, it had all been so natural, like family. Even Locke and Reinhart were essentially permanent fixtures in his heart now, so familiar were the sounds of their voices and the scents of their skin. How was he supposed to categorize and figure out what sort of friend he could be to Euphrosyne if he didn’t even know how to talk to her? He sucked in another nervous breath.
Gods, he had really screwed this up.
Either that, or he was about to.
Closing silvery eyes, Raglan focused on the muffled sounds of the nearby city and the shushing of grasses against his legs. He could say that he had chosen the field for it’s ambiance and the beauty that it held during nightfall, it wouldn’t be false; but the real reason that he had asked the mare to meet him outside Terrastella’s gates was that being in a city at night still made him nervous. He didn’t know how to function in any township where the Crows didn’t exist, where he was alone and unknown and exposed.
So he stood there, soaking up the soothing aura of nightfall and hoping that this kind, careful, intriguing girl would decide he was worth her time.
"Talk"
@Euphrosyne SO THIS IS A MESS BUT IM HAVING A LOT OF FUN ALREADY
