An older creature who truly understood how turbulent the ocean’s tide could be would likely insist the brown mare was not fine. But Zevulun, who hadn’t yet begun swimming the ocean to travel to the islands, took her at her word with a smile, happy she was alright. His ears perked forward, intrigued by the way she spoke, being the first he’d come across who didn’t talk like the other small pool of horses he knew. Remaining back enough to offer her space in case she wanted to stand and also so she wouldn’t need to crane her neck up at an uncomfortable level to speak with him, Zevulun watched her curiously as she spoke.
“You’re on an island called Tinuvel, in the Bay.” He answered with a proud sort of smile, clearly pleased he knew the answer to her question. She was a pretty little thing, he thought, looking at her deep dark skin and lovely, wide eyes. “Did you come from another one of the islands?” His sisters had never mentioned the other islanders having different accents or even different languages, but then again, that was never something Zevulun had thought to ask about.
Maybe the world was much vaster than he’d thought and maybe he’d need to learn other languages just to communicate with everyone once he began to travel. Rather than feel daunted at the thought, Zevulun was invigorated. There was nothing better than exploring and learning and facing new challenges!
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