How to Catch a Fish

 

It seemed the Rift was kinder to him than when he left. From above a shadow glides over him. The colt startles. It is larger than a bird. Harks fall back and his tail lashes about his legs, but he makes no outward moves of aggression as the shadow’s maker comes into view. It was wise, for it seemed the creature meant no ill-will. That much was clear from the very first hello.

Still in a somber, quieter mood, the lad only nods back to the greeting. And in his quieter way at the moment, he observes, instead of saying more. The creature was smaller than he (though the colt was yet fully grown). Still the wings gave the small creature some breadth, so he did not look quite so little. A pale dustman’s coat, and thick set finished the creature off. He was a very plain creature, perhaps of Helovia, but then he’d seem some rather colorful character there too. Might the Rift be capable of producing beauty and normality? It would have to be investigated.

He shouldn’t just stand here though. Awkward, near emotionless. He should make some effort. Perhaps a friendly tone, something he had been carrying, but the pale gold was still hungover from his daze. His mind was still too slow on the uptake. He could also take Thranduil’s side of the world. Use his skills to probe and examine the new comer closer than a microscope could. He could learn what brought the creature down and use it to some advantage, even if it was just a laugh. Yet, he wasn’t the gold. He was not his father. Bringing in knives, tweezers and scalpels to a new being had been what caused them to distance themselves in the first place. That life sounded full of adventure and tall tales, but when he’d tried, it had felt wrong. (Partly because, for him, it came so easy.) So when the dusty bird came to a stop and seemed like he had something else on his mind, the pale gold was relieved he wasn’t being asked to come up with their topic of conversation. His ears prick up and he listens with curiosity.

A raven? The horned head tilts. He was searching for a raven. His raven. “Your companion?” It comes out in a lull of a question. To lose a companion was a very serious thing. The pale remembered in anger once, asking his Da why he did not leave Haldir alone if he hated him so much. Companions though were tied to your soul, impossible to lose. Or perhaps this was a joke. One hark slides back. No, this creature was too friendly for that. Of course, his guard remained up.

Still, it calls forth something in the pale colt, and a small apologetic smile comes forward. “I’m sorry I haven’t…” Would he have even noticed though? Being in such a daze, would he have noticed one small black dot on the horizon? Guilt blooms in his mind. “…but I can help you look for it?” It was an offer, a question, to be accepted or rejected. Yet…it leaned with a desire to be accepted. After all it would mean company, distraction, even if it was not all it seemed.

As if to secure his sincerity the pale colt looks up at the sky, his eyes sweeping the mangroves and pale white puffs of clouds. He could cover the ground, and the other the sk- or you could fly with him. Fear grabs him in his throat. To cover it he smiles more at the other and clears his throat. (No he could not do that. He would not do that. Out of the question.) “I’m Galahad by the way.” The at your service seemed mute at this point, as he was already putting himself there.

 
OOC :: 
"speech"

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credits

@Korri <3