†
His ears twitch with interest at her response. 'He is an enemy of my family,' Shiloh replies, before there is a long pause. Temblor hoped she might expand on that weighted statement —thus far he has met only family and herd mates of this Rougaru— but instead she redirects the conversation. Perhaps that is for the best: a first meeting is hardly the time to reveal what baggage, and how much, burdens one's back. But it does spark within him more than idle curiosity, and if the opportunity presents itself he will ask her to elaborate. Briefly he considers what this might mean if he were to invite her back with him. To say nothing of a warranted hesitance, as Shiloh only has his word that Rougaru is not in Paradise, there is also the presence of Sonorae. Temblor wonders if the enmity surrounding the stallion extends to what remains of his herd, as well.
And, while he doubts the timid, flea-bitten gray mare would fight when she could flee, Temblor has no wish to exacerbate her melancholy or discomfort. But it is hard to say he would prefer her comfort over Shiloh's, should tensions erupt in Paradise. Sonorae makes him think of all that is no longer possible; in the copper-dipped mare, he sees potential. He sets that concern aside as a something easily resolved, or at least one that does not require more than passing consideration for now, and grins at Shiloh's interest in Atlantis. Perhaps she will not be so hesitant to accept an invitation from him, after all.
Her rapid-fire questions are endearing, and prompt him to flaunt the best side of Paradise in a shameless attempt to further spike her interest: "No need to apologize— Atlantis is as beautiful as they say; I quite understand your curiosity. It's the first island that drew me from the Crossing." And while high humidity and warm, regular rains may not be to his personal preference, there is no denying Atlantis is an emerald among the Isles. "Snow is a myth there, I'm sure of it, but truth be told I've only lived there for a couple of months. There is still much of my home left to be explored. And, really," he adds, "it's best experienced in person. Paradise is so much more than what you can see. The sounds, the smells— even the air itself is unlike anything else I've encountered in my life."
He could tell her all about the boldly blooming hibiscus, or the way the smell of jasmine floats across the beach in the evenings, or how brilliant the sunrises are as they warm the pale sands of Atlantis. How there's never a dull moment, even at night, for the wildlife is so vocal and varied they seem to sing and chatter in shifts— one can tell what time of day or night it is just by whose voices are most prominent, be it the birds or the apes or the mammals whose feet seem never to touch the ground, their whole lives spent up in the canopy. And nothing quite captures the way the jungle swallows the light, casting most everything below in a perpetual twilight, or the silvering of moonlight through unexpected gaps that softens the dark. There are less pleasant things to behold, as well, but they are as integral to the jungle as the flowers and parrots: he came across the shed skin of a snake, once, and shuddered to think of the size of such a creature slithering about his home. The foul-smelling pitcher plants, tall and patiently waiting for the unsuspecting to fall into their traps. The vines draped snakelike across tree branches, spiders big as one's hoof, and the ever-present humidity and sluicing rains which makes such a verdant jungle thrive— Paradise is not without its devils, but even at its worst it is beautiful to behold.
"Come home with me," Temblor offers, deliberate in his choice of words. "See Atlantis for yourself, and explore more of Paradise with me. It's aptly named. And, truth be told, I'm getting a little tired of trying to hold conversations with the tapirs. They're sternly literal," he jokes, "and a little too pompous for my tastes." He has, of course, never actually spoken with the strange pigs, but they are the closest thing he has had for regular company these last few weeks— and hardly pleasing to look at. He would much rather see Shiloh's white coat flashing through the trees, the green of her gaze enhanced by the verdant jungle of Paradise.
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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