The pale mare's reply drew a chuckle from Baldur's lips, a low rumbling laugh that bubbled from deep in his chest. "You certainly have a point," he replied, briefly thinking back to all the times trouble had managed to find him, despite him not looking for it. Misfortune seemed to have a funny way of sneaking up on the unsuspecting.
Perhaps that's why he was always on guard... but that was a thought to analyze another time, and so he quietly compartmentalized it (along with the many other things he'd refused to think about too hard over the years).
Tail flicking idly against his legs, Baldur's pale gaze lingered on the woman as she looked back to the star-speckled sky. Pale wisps of clouds parted to reveal the moon, a gleaming jewel against the backdrop of the black sky. He scrutinized the details of her face while she was distracted, but before he could ask her any further questions, she beat him to the punch.
'Have you heard the story of Tiddalick?' she asked, and Baldur couldn't stop the curious tilt of his head or the way his brow knit visibly in confusion. For someone who had spent nearly his whole life listening to the tales others told, this was one he was unfamiliar with. "Can't say I have," he said. Never one to pass up a good story and eager for company, he allowed himself to draw slowly closer, head lowered so he might better hear her words. "But you sound like you might know a thing or two about it. Care to share?"
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