Willfur
The mules long ears flick forward and back, uncertainty coiling into nervous energy beneath his skin. There's a confusing mixture of tone and inflection in the strangers speech, almost as if each word is being pronounced by two different speakers - individual, but simultaneous - one neutral, the other... intimidating. A quality of warning rings through the dissonance, a low, guarded noise that might seem more familiar in the growl of a wild animal than a civilized, verbal exchange.
"Uhh-" He hesitates, weight sinking instinctively into his heels as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Daunting steps into the meadow, moonlight illuminating strong, impassive features. Is he mimicking? Mocking? But as he raises his gold smeared head, all Willfur can see behind those sharply focused pupils is want, hunger, pursuit. He's not at all sure that what he sees is the same type of desire that he feels, for knowledge and experience, but he's happy to oblige with what he can and relieved to start inching toward familiar ground.
"Ah! Well, as best as I can tell," One narrow hoof lifts and reaches out to brush an untouched bloom between them, gently enough not to damage it, but roughly enough to illicit the expected flare of light and color, the hair around his coronet band dusted with grainy, blue light radiating dust when he pulls it back again. "These flowers have some sort of phosphorescence to them; Phosphorescent rather than florescent because they continue to glow even after you agitate them, just not so brightly. So that means that they absorb and store energy from the sun during the day and then re-emit it at a lower, longer wavelength later on so that the glow is not so brilliant as a sun, but lasts quite a long time for so small a thing as a flower. It's probably meant to make their pollen seem more appealing to potential carriers."
Trusting him enough - or distracted enough - in that moment to let his eyes lift and look past the other stallion's shoulder, roaming over the smattering of other horses gathered in the meadow, he poses his own question. "I wonder if they only bloom this way once a year? Maybe even less than that. The way everyone else has come to stroll and play makes it seem like a familiar, but special occurrence. Do you know?" He's not sure what to expect by way of answer, but having found another curious mind, he's eager to make more connections, build more bridges. "Oh! I'm Willfur, by the way. It's nice to meet you!"
@Erasmus
