Meadow

The stallion didn’t seem to mind the cold any more than Celestine did. His sleek coat didn’t shiver with the breeze, even as he stood directly in its path, and his voice was smooth and warm as he spoke — no trace of a quiver. Celestine cocked her head at him like a decorative bird; she could feel his eyes on her, though he was polite enough to be subtle. A gentleman, she thought.

Celestine was not quite as polite, though she certainly wasn’t outright rude with her gaze. She simply did not mind if he caught her eyes as they roamed over him with curiosity. She was even so bold as to take a step closer — just enough to feel the heat coming off him. No, she didn’t mind the cold, but she wouldn’t pass up a little warmth. Normally, she might press in on a shy stallion, just to watch him squirm; or she might keep a tantalizing distance from a cocky one, for the same amusing result. But this tall gentleman had just the right amount of confidence that Celestine did not feel the need to play games. At least, not yet. For now, she simply enjoyed the stranger’s company, like a cat who spends most of its time pretending as though every frequent interaction is a funny coincidence, but will sometimes (rarely) curl up in your lap.

When he spoke, it seemed he answered her question honestly. He was here to make a name for himself — not terribly original, but she couldn’t expect everyone to be glaringly unique. In any case, that was a broad plan, with plenty of ways to get creative. “Seems a worthy mission,” she said with a coy smile. She reached down for another bite of the weak winter grass near the dark stranger’s hooves, letting her whiskers brush his lean foreleg on the way back up. “I wish you luck.”

He asked about her own travels, and she shrugged thoughtfully. “You know, I think I just got up and walked away suddenly. I might have just gotten bored.” It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was most of it. She had just walked out of her old life one day, without much more reason than… she felt like it. They stood in companionable silence for a minute, weathering the cold together, and then her handsome stranger gave her his name.

Celestine’s delicate brows raised. The first name she had heard on this island, and it was important to her. Names carried value for Celestine, and she tucked this one away in a special place.

“Viðarr,” she repeated, savoring it. A pause as she considered whether or not to accept this as a trade, and not a gift; but that wasn’t much of a question. He was the first name she had received in her new life, so it was only fair she would give out her own name for the first time to him. “Mine is Celestine. Keep it safe,” she purred. Her voice was casual, playful almost. He didn’t need to know the weight this exchange held for her — not yet, anyway.

“Speech”