I AM THE KING OF LIES
Despite his lesser use of emotion, of inflection in his tone, 'Vasher' was a friendlier Face than Ammon was by nature, and it made him feel rather rusty in using it... but it was the only Face which would not require magic he was now lacking. Vasher had been a boy lost long ago, a broken mother's whispered hope to her black-borne son 'fore he was taken away. It was a Face he sparingly used, for to use it felt too much like an admittance that he was not who he was, that he disliked what he was.
Ammon flicked an ear at the stallion's own name, a soft snort escaping him as the massive stallion butchered his new name. "Vash-ehr. Thou art close, however, thou drew out the 'e' too far." He corrected, mulling over before making a subtle chewing motion. "I have no place you call home, Tor." He mimicked the stallion's cadence, though his lip curled slightly. "And thine speech is like curdled milk to the tongue." It lacked eloquence, it was a rough-hewn axe compared to a slender rapier, and another reminder that he was as archaic as his words.
He moved to follow Tor, though when he glanced to the stallion there was something.... off, a flash of red on his head that drew his eyes before Tor turned away. It snared his interest, but he bid his time as there was no way to see what that had been without making a fool of himself. He was silent as Tor described the mare of his interest, spoke not on it as he truly held no interest for it, though at the direct question he flicked an ear, mulling over his words carefully. "I awoke here." It was the plain and earnest truth, though he would not say quite how long he had been asleep. "Thou hath not seen me wander 'ere these lands as I've not wandered them but a day." He chuckled low.
"What of thee, Tor, where doth thou call home, for thou doth not smell of this plain but of baked soil and spice." He arched a brow, ghoulish eyes focused on the larger stallion.
@Torstein
