He seemed to settle comfortably where he had chosen to stop, and while it felt all the more surreal to her that he actually wanted to remain here, Encelia chose to say nothing. The taut pull of her muscles relaxed, though, just slightly, and more of her weight settled down into her narrow, pale hooves. She didn’t appear like she was about to take off at the slightest change in the wind; his furthered calmness inspired the same thing naturally in her.
When he admitted that he was Salem-born, Encelia’s eyes widened with surprise, and the slightest smile of disbelief moved across her lips. His build spoke toward desert-born horses, but Encelia knew the mix of the islands often meant that just a lithe build wouldn’t always speak to a Salem native like it might elsewhere. He further clarified it had been the Desert that he grew up in and that he, too, had just barely left home.
She wondered why he’d left and if it had been like her, just a spur-of-the-moment decision with little regard left behind it.
“Oh, uh,” she floundered briefly as he asked how her time away from Salem was going so far. “It’s okay, I guess?” She managed weakly. “I haven’t been here long.”
When was she going to go back, anyways? Encelia had told no one of her plans to leave, though the watchful eyes scattered among the Badlands herd likely meant someone took note of her absence quickly enough. Though… would they? How did she not blend right into the background of her home? Quiet and unassuming as she was, it was just as likely no one had really noticed she was gone at all.
“I didn’t tell anyone I was going,” she admitted, and wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. Something about his calming nature, about him being the first one outside of her herd she’d talked to, and the fact that he seemed interested in standing here and speaking to her just had Encelia’s tongue rather loose. “I was just…” briefly she struggled with how to explain how she’d been feeling before she fled the Badlands before she shifted her weight somewhat as though to shrug and concluded, “tired. Tired of… life.” Or the lack thereof.
“Why did you leave the Desert?” She asked, her gold eyes moving to his face. Then, only a split-second later she felt immense guilt, like she shouldn’t pry. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
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