Siren's Summit
He knows immediately who it is; everybody else insists on a pointless greeting or small talk when they approach him, or, worse, hide their true emotions behind a queer veil of body language that the inept colt can never hope to penetrate. Not Otem, who skips straight to the point. She understands him, and despite his stunted feels, he appreciates her all the more for it. "I thought the same thing." He'd visited the altar only a handful of times in his short life, but the inscriptions in this slab of onyx look much the same as the ones in the Spectral Marsh. "There was a mare who could decipher them, didn't Mot....Isopia say?" The mention of one's dead mother would send flashes of sorrow through most children, but not Vulkán. He feels nothing but a small hum of sadness as he says the word, and that's more because Isopia would probably have known more about these runes than he could ever hope to. All that lost knowledge is a terrible tragedy.
He is not alone with his sister for long. A call echoes through the forest, and the volcano-boy lifts his head from where he'd been closely eyeballing the runes. He feels a small stab of irritation at having his studies disturbed, but the unfamiliar sensation quickly subsides. In bounces another colt, younger and smaller than the two yearlings but who quickly moves towards Otem with the familiarity of one who has met her before. A more possessive brother might shift to dissuade this stranger from going near his twin, but thankfully Vulkán does not seem to have inherited his father's deep jealousy and so simply scrutinises the interaction with interest. He likes to watch the interactions of others as though they're zoo exhibits - how they always seem to find the perfect line between holding eye contact too long or not long enough, whereas poor Vulkán hates eye contact with a passion and avoids it when possible...or, worse, tries his best to look normal by staring relentlessly and creepily because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do. He looks at how each flick of an ear or twitch of a muscle sends a small unspoken cue between everyone else, whilst he relies soley on the spoken word to procure a meaning. All other horses, including Otem and this other boy, make social interaction look so easy, so natural. Vulkán wonders if they have to second guess every movement they make, like he does, or if it is just instinct to them. It frustrates him that he's not the same way, that he either stands out like a sore thumb by ignoring social cues or tries his best to impersonate them only to fail miserably. This internal musing is momentary. He hears the colt say another word - sister - and this makes him cock his head with evident interest. Another sibling? He has plenty, but each one is a welcome addition. The other boy introduces himself as Mauna, and Vulkán realises with a great swell of dread that he's going to have to offer the same courtesy back - always tricky, as he never knows how much information to reveal. "My name is Vulkán." This seems too abrupt, so he quickly searches for something else to add. He focuses on the colt's introduction, calling Otem sister. This is where the bulky yearling makes the massive, but completely understandable, mistake of assuming that Mauna is a sibling on his father's side. Most of the Rift's current population is a relation of Volterra, and it doesn't cross the lava-boy's mind for a second that Mauna could be a brother on Isopia's side. Why would it? "You are our brother? I am surprised I did not see you during our family gathering in the Portal - I thought Father had ushered through the majority of us." It's said in his usual emotioness monotone, unaware of the grievous assumption he's just made. Mauna observes that the massive onyx creations are neat, and the yearling automatically shakes his head, taking the words literally. "They are not neat - they are quite untidy, really, but I suppose that is to be expected if they are natural phenomena." He makes the remark in his usual unwavering, unshifting voice, utterly unaware that Mauna was only using a figure of speech and not actually saying that the stones were neat in the proper sense of the word. |
@Otem
