Their mutual interest was palpable - she could practically breathe it in. His was a quiet type, intense and deep, but she simmered openly on the surface, unashamed as she poked and prodded about his energy. It was neither dark nor wholly light, she thought, but rather more akin to the oil that sat atop the bogs at time: it reflected everything, a seamless veil that could be described in no other way than all encompassing. His energy was uncommon, his intensity delectable.

They existed in silence for some time, the two of them seemingly enveloped in merely observing the other; she swayed and stared, observed his shadow with a flick of her ear, leaned to view the world beyond him. She was ever moving and only stopped - or rather paused - when he spoke. His energy seemed to morph again and she found herself rolling her tongue across her muzzle in both a spike of nervous energy and captivated hunger. "Mmm," she seemed to agree with his claims as she nodded a singular nod of affirmation but then she sauntered forward, almost suspicious, as she hushed her voice low. "The voice? I am the ears. I hear, I listen. They tell me so I can see." Her voice was quiet and it seemed to drip with shared secrecy, as if it had been the first she had admitted such a thing; her eyes moved as if to direct him to her right ear, the deadened one since birth.

But then she pulled away with a suddenly sweet laughter, truly entertained. "But they do not nip my heels, no! No! I am gentle with them and they with me -" she swaggered back a step again, lips pulled back into a truly blissful grin, "perhaps you ought to try.Be kind, Omen, and they will be kind in return." Her right ear twisted then as if spurred to life by some far away sound no other could hear - and it was just that. Beyond them all, she could hear the affirmations of those who had been yelling at her only hours ago. They seemed to agree: she had found something - somebody - who she ought to keep nearby. They liked him. He could help her speak for them.