†
Temblor shrugs again, noncommittal as she denounces, in a voice soft as velvet, the idea that solitude could be like heaven. Privately he wonders if he will ever have a quiet moment to himself again in a land like Paradise, where every critter seems to compete for acknowledgement from either their peers or their enemies as they screech and cry through the canopy. The beach, he thinks, seeking a quiet place within his own mind, and on the tail end of that comes a stark memory of sunlight glancing off water, the warm contralto of a woman's voice. He cannot tell if the image comes from the ruins of his past life or a more recent encounter. Temblor dismisses it and focuses on the now, on the white-maned mare who draws closer with a playful smile on her lips.
Mischief flashes amber behind her dark batting lashes, and she circles him with a light touch. He angles his head to keep her in sight, ears swiveling attentively. It is not hard to appreciate his current company. She is attractive: her proud carriage coupled with her vivacious demeanor make it hard to turn one's attention elsewhere, and for that he is grateful— even if she is sister to Annubis. Still, siblings are not one and the same, and from what he can tell this mare lacks the sulky entitlement of her brother. She carries herself like royalty: not simply as though she believes herself to be a queen, but as if she had been born wearing a crown.
"His loss," Temblor replies. He presses his shoulder briefly against hers, an echo of her earlier touch, and adds in a low voice, "but our gain, no? Let us catch up, instead." Gone are any vestiges of his earlier irritation. While he may not be seriously interested in pursuing this mare —this stranger who may have contentious and problematic family ties— there is no denying his enjoyment of the flirtatious game, nor his interest in getting to know her better... even if her earlier scream did wake him from a much-needed nap. She is compelling, and Temblor is intrigued.
There is something to be said, also, for her ability to root him in the present.
He brings his muzzle nearer to hers, inviting her to exchange breaths, seeking more information from this mare than what words alone can relay. He knows little of Salem beyond the name, and has to assume it belongs to one of the various islands strung along this chain. Ignorance he will have to fix personally, but later, when he is no longer entertaining such attractive company. "I am Temblor," he says. "Bring me your news of Salem, and I'll share what I know of Paradise."
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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