Vadim has been exploring. It takes him to many places in the harsh land of Solterra and even beyond it's borders. Some places remind him of home. Others don't. Today he watches the wind, captured between canyon walls, tumble sand and dirt along it's tempestuous path. Fingers of air reach up to rub along his tress-less neck, tug playfully at the pale strands of his tail. His thoughts today are not drawn down the path of the wind though. Instead they circle in his mind like wild dogs, worrying the corpse of philosophy. Worrying old questions, dead questions, replaying conversations with his feminine doppleganger in his mind. And still the words do not connect. It is if he seeks to build a puzzle with only a few pieces- not enough to even see what the picture might be.
The new arrival's voice startles him from his thoughts and his body is at once animated, hooves skittered on the edge of sand and stone, ears flicking up to alert attention. His smile is easy but curious as his sky-colored eyes trace the larger stallion's path, looking up at the height he seeks to climb. It seems less treacherous than the mountains that he lost himself in for a time over the summer. The wind picks up, brushes along his cheek like the flirtations of a lover. He follows it, picking his way daintily along the trail in the steps of this stranger (is he a stranger? Perhaps he saw him at the meeting).
It has been a long time since he has felt welcomed by someone within this court which is now his home. He answers the encouraging smile with a smile of his own- it is good to see a truly friendly face. He captures the moment in his mind, hanging it like a portrait. A memory to go back to when he feels hemmed in by antagonistic people who barely tolerate each other. Even if it is fleeting, he will take friendship where it is offered. He has no trouble on the steep slope though he is not a creature of mountains. But he is clever and he learns- he watches the path the grey takes and follows it though his own long limbs feel awkward here, as though he must take mincing steps to match the other's sure-footedness. He saves his breath for the climb.
When Vadim reaches the height that is their destination he stops- though the climb did not leave him breathless, the view nearly does. His eyes squint half-closed as he turns his head into the breeze that courts them here, wide nostrils inhaling the scents it carries. Privately he greets the wind- once, it did not feel so personal to him. Now the wind is sometimes his sole company and he finds he misses it on still days in a way he misses little else. "You were right- it's beautiful"
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