I'm ready to bleed to make amends
And sleep in this dirt we call our bed
So tell me your secrets
And join me in pieces
To fall and rewrite the bitter end
He listened intently to her talking, he could simply sit and listen for an eternity. Her voice was soft and lulled his mind into a true ease. He was only two, but in his time he had seen a wash of violence and struggle. His kin were as volatile as the volcano they inhabited. It wasn’t unusual for fights to break out regularly, and the power balance of the herd was evershifting. Those who birthed and sired him never took the time to explain much of anything. What was explained was how his failure to thrive guaranteed his place at the bottom of the ranks. Less than sentient. She listened, she replied - she seemed to care. This was a foriegn feeling, he pushed forcefully back feelings of unease and distrust. What would this mare have to gain by speaking to him after all? It would take some time for Aeon to not be distrustful of those around him.
He sighed with relief when she said she didn’t think the trees minded. He felt as though he had been caught with his horns in places they shouldn’t have been. It felt primal and right to be able to scratch those itches. Perhaps many before him had also sought their comfort. Younger trees hadn’t been able to withstand the force, they had bent on his itching.
He watched her move to a position of comfort and immediately felt his own easiness settle further. She wouldn’t lay down if she meant him harm, in fact it made her more vulnerable as a whole. He listened to her intently as she talked about the bird. His ears swiveled to take in the different noises. He hadn’t even noticed the presence of the bird either until it was drawn to his attention. Had it always been there, or had she made it appear? There was more and more about this world that was mysterious and a little frightening.
“They don’t speak with words, when their branches brush it makes me feel…something stir” He lacked the vocabulary to properly explain the sensation. “Like, they want me to go onwards and walk beneath their branches and rest here” He held no power, no special abilities; but he did have instincts for survival. Perhaps it was that that drew him onwards truly.
Magic in blood. What was magic? He knew blood to be the liquid that fueled living creatures. He had seen the consequences of it being drained. Magic on the other hand he didn’t know personally. There were rituals the higher ones attended to, but nothing he was privy to. Of those he knew, what he could observe was that they didn’t have much actual effect. That they would sacrifice creatures for good weather to only have it storm the next day; causing the herd to be unable to fly. “What is magic?” He said, cocking his head, emulating her body language subconsciously.
ooc: @Torielle
