Meadow

They moved as one across the meadow, their hooves beating the ground at the same optimistic tempo - manes tangling in the bitter winter breeze as they hugged their warm bodies together for warmth and comfort. It was all they had known their whole lives - that they could rely on one another - and not many others. Those the twins trusted were few and far between, and the time had come to broaden their horizons and to make allies (or foes) without always falling back to the judgement of the other. No - they both knew it was time to branch out alone.

"See anything that takes your fancy, brother?" Aenea asked with her usual cheeky sing-song tone, her lips skimming her twin's withers and leaving a few playful nips along the base of his mane. Ezra shrugged her off, his hazel eyes focussed on a blurry shape in the distance - dark, stoic, - aggressive almost. He did not respond to his sister, despite her persistent nagging lips on his skin and her huffed impatience.

"Leave me."

"Already?"

"Please, Aenea." The boy was not begging - his words came off almost as a demand, though he'd never dare order his sister. Their respect was mutual, even if, at times, she tested his good-will and forbearance. "Alright," the girl responded, pressing her body to his in a goodbye before tossing her head towards the wind and sauntering away, calling back over her shoulder - "I'll find you again soon. Don't be too long."
___

Alone. It wasn't a typical state for Ezra, and one he doubted would ever become familiar to him. The bond of children who shared a womb would forever tie him to his sister, and as much as she drove him to madness at times, he admitted that he would not feel right without her for too long. But this short furlough from her company was well received - and it gave him time to explore, have solo experiences that would not be tied up in her drama.

Quietly, thoughtfully, he approached the man before him. He'd heard his cry of agony from a mile off, not increasing his pace to meet him, but holding back. He didn't wish to fight with the stranger - just to talk. As he drew closer to the opposite side of the pool to the other man he dipped his head, skimming his velvety lips along the surface of the water and drawing in a cool gulp. His eyes stayed fixed on the stranger. He said nothing, waiting for the man to accept his presence, before pulling his head up abruptly and shaking his forelock from his eyes and daring to utter those fateful words: "Want to talk about what's on your mind?"