Willfur
He smiles back at the mare, grateful first for her willingness to chat - because as beautiful as the open road is, it's also often lonely for the socially inclined - and second for the generosity of her response, both thoughtful and kind when she could easily have justified something perfunctory or abrupt. "Well said. Thank you."
Lifting his chin, he watches the clouds overhead drifting slowly by and tries to imagine gliding over their troughs and peaks, rising and banking to avoid outcroppings like rocks in a cliff-face, the whole scene a monochrome recreation of earthly mountains in his minds eye. He wonders if the vapor is cold when she passes through it and if the moisture condenses and clings to her feathers like dew on a leaf. Could she really see the shape of the world from so high? What does a cloud smell like?
He laughs, catching himself and drawing his attention back down to the present. He's glad to still have this childlike, all-consuming curiosity and he's glad to have mastered it too, at least in part. He doesn't blurt aloud every question that springs to the tip of his tongue anymore, a habit mostly overcome by repeated reprimand, but he doesn't stifle them either, carefully filing them away to ask at appropriate times and in manageable portions, an agreeable compromise for all.
"It must be wonderful." He sighs, and then, "Oh, I've heard the library is incredible. Shelves and shelves of scrolls and books and pamphlets on every subject, some of them dating back to the very birth of the written word! But I've actually never been. I've never been to any of these places before." The oversized ears dip for a moment, swinging backward and forward as if admitting some fault or confessing an uncomfortable truth. If he wasn't already a natural redhead, all peachy tones outlined in rust, he might have blushed a little at his own transparency. "I'm not even sure how I got here, other than placing one hoof in front of the other."
What he doesn't add is that he had known the route he was taking, known where it started and where it led and that here is neither, nor that he has yet to reconcile this anomaly in his own thoughts and feelings. There are just too many questions, even for him, and too many illogical non-answers, so he swallows and moves quickly on.
"I'd love to read them all, but realistically I know I'll have to pick and choose so... I'll probably look at the ones focused on philosophy first - I'd say they're my favorite - and then history and religion and medicine. Those three usually overlap a bit so I like to lump them together, but even if I walk in there with a strict plan I know I'll end up grabbing whatever catches my eye, so there's no predicting really." The grin returns as he rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "Like a colt in a clover patch."
@Mephisto
