And Then There Was Light

Efen The dragon’s mimicry delights the boy and he fans his wings with greater enthusiasm as a result, the two miniatures mirroring each other in an ostentatious salute of kinship, or at least, what the colt perceives to be kinship without ever having met a relative. “Hello to you too.” He pronounces formally, inclining his head in mock decorum and reporting matter-of-factly to the stallion, “I like dragons.” It all seems to be going so well, this first meeting with a stallion and a dragon, with anybody, but the joy brought on by one question quickly fades at the heels of another. The stallion’s expression crumples, the corners of his mouth falling into tight lines and his brows creasing. “Oh.” Is all the boy can think to say at first, his cheeks warming self-consciously as he inwardly rebukes himself for speaking so carelessly and causing a negative reaction. He finds himself wanting to correct the mistake, to reassure the stallion and reestablish their newfound friendship, all while being oblivious to the very same efforts being made on his behalf. “We can find her.” He starts tentatively. “I can help. I’m good at looking. And listening!” With this his conch shaped ears flick fully forward, their humorous size highlighted even farther by how small and delicate he appears. Without the thick layer of fluff across his hide and encircling his neck he might seem little more than a walking skeleton. And then, an invitation. “Yes!” He shouts excitedly, the sudden desire to stay with the elder, or the sudden realization that the black may soon leave, raising the volume of his voice and causing a slight echo in the shifting spaces around them. “Oh, uhm, sorry.” He trails, a sheepish grin spreading across his too-deep mouth, the tiny nubs of canine teeth slightly jutting overtop the more mundane incisors and molars. He turns to glance around for the first time since being approached, his voice suddenly deflating. “Uhm.. Destrier?” He hesitates, fearful of causing another flicker of sadness to cross his features,  or worse, anger. “Do you.. live here?” Do I live here? He wonders. Talk. OOC: @Destrier Trying to get up that great big hill of hope, For a destination.

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