Did we just become best friends!?

Iskra felt that happiness was never something to be kept at bay. Feeling it didn't necessarily mean there was less space for grief, or sorrow, or fear - he certainly still felt all of those amongst his moments of joy and bliss. To ever think he wasn't allowed to feel happiness was something which was unfathomable to the colt, and so he did not balk nor hesitate as he basked in the glory of shouting alongside Otem. He did, however, pick up on her tightened lips, the dimming of her eyes, the light leaving all of her features as more shade crept cruelly into place. Though he wondered at its specific cause, a word out of place, his stinking wings, he didn't point it out. He'd not ignore it, but he wouldn't feed it either, and so he continued headlong onto the next topic, adamant about maintaining this lightheartedness that did the soul so much good. "Mm," was all he could muster in response to her query that it might stop. He believed that about as much as he believed they could return home. "Lucky," he playfully griped when she admitted she'd received no magical makeovers. "I dunno," Iskra answered her query, neck craning around to try and give himself a better view of his back, "should they? What are they?" His question was prompted by the hazy image of something on his spine that he could just see out of the corner of his eye. "Do they look dangerous or, uh, weird?" Of course they were weird, but you know, more weird than normal? Iskra hadn't gone for a swim yet, especially not with all the moisture the sky already provided on the daily, but he'd be thrilled once he did and found his underwater adventures prolonged with these gills. Carry on my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more

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@Otem