Untouched

CONNOR

Not requiring to sleep, eat, drink, or rest allowed Connor to explore and truly understand his new environment. It was so much more than he knew, so different from the life he had been irreversibly thrown from. He still could not recall how he had come to this land. No matter how often he slipped into stasis, how often he dug through his hundreds of hours of memory storage, the missing forty-two-point-five hours from his memory core could not be retrieved.

The files were corrupted. Beyond his grasp. But from what? And how?

He didn’t know. Connor didn’t like not knowing.

It was his main function. His reason for creation. To know, to understand, to record, analyze, and deduce was his primary function. To succeed. Yet here he was, struggling with something as simple as a data retrieval… If he were a living being, he would be displaying classical signs of frustration. As it were, he simply pursed his lips and continued on, steps light yet sure as he crossed the cracked, dried land.

He did not wander too far from this arid, warmer atmosphere. Not yet. This place was where was best for him while he struggled to understand more about his new surroundings. Prolonged exposure to the negative freezing temperatures could result in catastrophic shutdown if left unmonitored. His thirium could freeze due to prolonged exposure, and in result, his vital biocomponents would slow until the inevitable shutdown. It was a risk that he simply could not take, not before locating some kind of function for repairs.

So, Connor spends his time wandering. Cataloguing. Attempting to understand.

It was hard. Without connections to his main network, it was impossible to uncover vital data. Without anyone to talk to, he could not consult anyone for answers. It was…

It was…

Frustrating.

New Primary Directive: Find partner.

The words popped up in the top corner of his HUD, and Connor frowned, but understood them. Finding a partner, even a mortal one, would offer him insurmountable assistance in assimilating himself to this world. If he could find someone to speak to, to ask questions to… Perhaps he would not be so lost. So useless. Inactivity was not Connor’s strong suit, after all.

The artificial stallion’s pace halted as he reached the edge of a lake. Optics scanned the environment, picking up small, inconsequential details. Looking down at the water at his hooves, he rose a quizzical brow, still frowning. Steam wafted into the air, and a quick inhale filled Connor’s nose with the smell of brimstone and sulfur. Interesting.

Lowering his head, he lapped once at the water, registering its temperature and chemical components as the water dissolved onto the sensors of his tongue, breaking the existing compositions down, one by one. H2O, sodium chloride, sulfur… On and on the list went. Connor stood, silent and still as he processed the information, LED spinning yellow, yellow, yellow…

Only when he was satisfied with the results did he raise his head, deep brown eyes staring out across the water to spot the reclining form as it relaxed in the hot water. Unbidden, Connor scanned it, and like all the other times, the results came back inconclusive.

Male. Estimated age: 13-15 years. That was it. That irregularity showed itself again, although the bay’s expression remained that vacant stare as he watched the colorful male in the midst of his bath.

Frustration.

Finally, then, did he speak. Sudden and without preamble, Connor tilted his head. “Hello.”

@Misael - Sorry for the rambling derp. XD