Nephilim was definitely inclined to agree with the girls. This guy was weird. But was he weird because Nephilim had little to no experience in conversing with a wide array of horses (strange stallions included) or was that his personality? Who was Nephilim to judge who was weird and who wasn’t? What basis did he have to go off of? He frowned as he thought, ears twitching and gold eyes pinned to the bay stallion.
The fillies were pretty? His gaze cut to them and though there were a strange flutter inside him and the swelling urge to arch his neck and try to appear larger than he was, Nephilim did not quite understand that was because he found them attractive. Such thoughts were not yet readily occurring to him. They were barely beginning to blossom, particularly as this current season progressed.
Thankfully his curiosities as to whether or not the fillies were pretty were cut short the very moment Al-Sarim turned his playful attention to Nephilim. The speckled colt’s eyes widened and his head snapped in surprise, gaze sling-shot to the bay. Nephilim had never been told that he was pretty before and, jest or not, he found he was incapable of offering a smooth retort. It was instead an awkward, strained laugh that barely bubbled from his lips and a small, slight step backwards as if to put a small breath of distance between himself and Al-Sarim.
The girls gave their names and Nephilim’s attention returned to them. Foxglove and Firethorne. He glanced back to Al-Sarim. “Nephilim.” He said quietly after the second had given her name.
He supposed, if nothing else, he was thankful Al-Sarim was not driving him away and was instead engaging in a (what seemed to be harmless) conversation. If this was to be a conversation though, Nephilim supposed he could at least try and contribute in some way. He knew what he wanted to ask – he wanted to know what island the girls had come from. He wanted to know if it was Luthien. He wondered if they had seen her. But none of these were things which Nephilim would ask or confess to. Too private, these matters were. Better to be kept in silence.
His gold gaze was drawn back toward Al-Sarim. “Do you live on Crossing Isle too?”
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