She doesn’t realize the colt is blind until far too late. When he lifts his head, scents the air and blankly stares at where she stands, it all clicks. Hollis blinks, surprised and a little ashamed at her own dear. He’s a child and he can’t see her. There’s certainly nothing to be afraid of. She takes a bracing breath, shaky and deep and forces her muscles to unclench, one aching tendon at a time.

He introduces himself as Oswin’s son, and Hollis is suddenly even more relieved she wound up being polite to him. Oswin is the leader here, and Hollis can’t risk being cast out because she's rude. There’s no way anywhere else would be better than this. He’s polite when he speaks, simplifying an issue in only the way that a child can. Hollis makes a small, apologetic noise and says, “No, no, It’s ok. I just…you startled me. I’m not really used to other people.” There are some things she cannot explain, some things that a colt, an innocent, will never grasp. Better to stay vague, and spare him the poison of the world.

“I was having fun,” she offers tentatively. It’s the truth, although it takes a significant amount of effort for Hollis to keep interacting with him. She hasn’t actually seen many other foals around here, so he must be lonely, right? “Who do you normally play with?” As alone as she is, at least she’s an adult, at least she has made the choice herself. “Are there…are there other foals around here to spend time with you?” Foals mean stallions, and during Autumn as it is now, that is a bigger risk for Hollis. Better to avoid them, and not tempt fate.