My mind had gone blank, filled with nothing but small, idle thoughts that held no consequence. My eyes were still closed when I heard first the faint approach of some four legged creature. The approach stops and a female voice speaks out to me. A nicked and an introduction. Weir. Relics. I lift my dewy mug into the foggy air and glance her direction.
The first thing I do is just stare in silence. Of course I've seen some interesting creatures in my time, but that doesn't change my intrigue whenever I meet some new beast. The silver eyes in my skull take in her paleness, the rosy stripes decorating her like a damn zebra. Horns of a caribou tinged with red. Jewelry hung from them as well. Her mane and tail long and silky. Once I'm satisfied that I've made a relatively good picture in my mind, I flop my head unceremoniously back onto the ground and grunt as a blade of grass pokes me in the eye. Motherfucker..
I close my eyes again and hesitate a moment, slowing thinking about a reply. I grunted out some nonsense. "Rostislav." My voice is rough, dry - a combination of underuse and rawness from crying. "I don't know what the relics are you speak of." Did I care? Maybe, maybe not. I would be lying if I said it didn't spark my curiosity. I sighed, surrendering to the intrigue that she'd stirred in me. Perhaps these relics could be used to bring back some of the happiness I'd once known? Damaris.. oh how I missed her. I could use a relic to barter with a God and get one of them to bring her back to me.
Sitting up, and then standing, I shook the droplets off of my shaggy pelt and returned to staring at Weir. She seemed about my age, maybe a little younger. Casually I wondered if she was from around here, or how she got here otherwise. Was she as lost and desolate as I? I took a few steps toward her, non-threatening except for my generally rough exterior. "Tell me more, lass."
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