Common

The smile that graced Larka's face told Mikhail he was not infringing. The tension he held in his muscles seemed to dissipate, melting from his bones in a gentle sigh that ghosts pasts his lips. Stepping closer, he sought her warmth as the crisp autumn winds danced about the clearing. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out to share a breath, afraid she might disappear if he came too close. His nostrils flared to enguls the scent of her skin, mixed with the heady perfume of dying leaves and moist earth.

She spoke, her voice soft and silvery as it rang out into the cool air between them. He commits the detail of it to mind, ears tipped forward as he dips his own crown. "I am Mikhail." His initial reply is simple and brief - he has never been one to speak much. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Larka. Thank you for allowing me to keep you company." He had spent the past few weeks secluded away, sequestered from the world beyond the confines of his mind. Perhaps this would do him some good.

Several long moments passed between them. Mikhail tilted his head, his good eye grazing over her face intently. "Tell me, are you a native of the Islands?" He asked. Having spent most of his life on the mainland, he had nearly memorized every face that frequented these parts. Surely he would remember laying eyes upon such a beauty before, but no matter how much the painted stallion wracks his memory, he couldn't recall ever seeing her.

((ooc: no worries, my post is also blah))