cinnamon
Cinnamon returned the smile, though his was relaxed and happy. He could tell the tension was beginning to lift. "I came here a couple months ago, and I don’t think I could leave if I wanted to. The place is… different," he said. Not to mention the mainland is absolute shite, he thought, but kept that part to himself. He knew the whole world outside of the islands wasn’t all bad, but he didn’t want to bother trying to find the good parts of it. He had too many sad, angry memories of his home that he wasn’t sure he could ever truly enjoy the land, even if he traveled far away from his birthplace. He had been lucky to find himself here; it had been like entering a different world. It felt like a fresh start. He had done quite a bit of healing here, and though he could never replace his old herd, he had at least made a few friends. Well… one friend. It was a start.
Cinnamon laughed as Luthien speculated her mother’s reasoning for her name, if there was any. "It’s weird to think that our parents had lives of their own before we came along to bother them eternally," he joked. "I wasn’t close with my parents, but I know my father would never have stumbled across this place. He was a stubborn old mule. Never left the canyon he was born into. I can reasonably see my mother finding it, though." His mother had been the adventurous type, and had left him with his father at an early age. He had never really forgiven either one for splitting in such a way; he wasn’t sure about his mother, but his father had remained angry and broken about it until he died.
For a moment, when Cinnamon heard the grey mare speak under her breath, the tension returned, but it ebbed slowly away as Luthien assured him it was alright. Just not used to strangers, she said, and he nodded in understanding. "You can chase me away any time," he said with a chuckle. They grazed for a few minutes, the silence awkward at first. Cinnamon didn’t mind. He just enjoyed the company, and the grass on the Crossing was not as tough as the grass on Tinuvel. When she asked if he lived nearby, the red stallion lifted his head from the grass and nodded. "Yes. Well, sort of. I live on Tinuvel, in the Bay. I suppose you probably know where that is," he said with a friendly smile. "It’s pretty quiet there right now. A little Icelandic stallion used to run the place, but him and his family took off about a month ago. No warning or anything. It’s been empty since, just myself and three others. I was getting a little lonely, to be honest," he admitted with a guilty chuckle, "which is why I’m here. You’re welcome to come visit, or stay if you’d like. I’ll show you around. It’s definitely quieter than here, heh."
He realized he was rambling, and blushed beneath the dark fur of his face. Cinnamon hadn’t realized he was becoming a chatty type, though he supposed that wasn’t always a bad thing. It felt nice to have an easy conversation, and his offer to show Luthien the Bay was genuine, even if she only stopped by to see the place and then split again. At the very least he knew the Bay was safe, though the grey mare had no way to know if following a stranger home was a good idea or not. With that in mind, he would not have been offended if she turned him down.
stallion // 16hh // EE A+a nSty // of the Bay
she marks her fingerprints
in my skin
i breathe her perfume in
and it burns like heroin
now she's in me
and i can't let her go
