Willfur
Rapunzel?
The oversize ears tilt away, disengaging from the marooned stallion, their accompanying russet eyes hardening for a moment. Willfur understands sarcasm, he just doesn't like it. It feels mean spirited, it's usually fueled by discomfort of some sort, and it's primarily meant to emphasize ridiculousness, childishness, and absurdity, but he doesn't feel absurd. He feels like he's being perfectly rational, especially in comparison.
He's not the one standing scuffed and bruised on a rock in the middle of a turbulent river!
A few times in his youth he'd been spurred to hot mouthed retaliation by some similar exchange, but every time he'd tried to quip at his opponents their retaliations became sharper, more astute, and almost always deteriorated into open insults and hostility. It wasn't a contest that ever ended well for him, since he always seemed to care more about what was said than anyone else, and it's not one he wants to get dragged into now, even if his sensibilities are ruffled.
"Rapunzel only lets down her hair for a prince. The pout in his voice is unmistakable. Well, maybe he's still a bit childish. He sighs, tries again. "But I suppose if I'd been locked inside a tower for eighteen years I wouldn't be especially picky either... and I'm pretty sure that prince did have to cross a river. He tries to grin and turns to scan the bank for debris: logs, branches, the usual sorts of things that get sucked in and redeposited by swift currents. "Maybe there's something-"
Too late.
Before his metaphorical olive branch can mature into a physical one, the little stallion bunches himself up like a cat and the mule on the bank already knows what to expect. Eyes widening, he scrambles to get out of the way, only narrowly trading full body contact for a light smack across the bridge of the nose. Whap!
Had that really been an accident?
Skeptical, but unroused, he shakes himself, wiping away the unwanted moisture on one knee while the leaping lunatic rolls and wriggles in the grass. "Definitely nuts," He reiterates, but this time his expression is lighter and the words are softened by a rumble of shared laughter.
Had he really known he could make those jumps?
"I'm Willfur. And if that leg is hurting you there's probably some willow growing around here. It's a good painkiller and it likes to grow near water." He'd noticed how the stallion's left foreleg had buckled before anything else, though the exaggerated antics that followed had been a pretty good cover.
Maybe he's not as crazy as he seems.
@Ezital
