HUSH, CHILD, THE DARKNESS WILL RISE FROM THE DEEP
The face staring back up at him was undoubtedly his own, but it was changed somehow. As if Braith was viewing himself through a dirty window. A fish swam through the shallows, disrupting the image with several ripples. They distorted his face and for a moment he didn't notice the scars.
A very fleeting moment.
He turned away before the ripples stopped, his attention falling upon the approaching mare. She was speckled, though in a different way than he was. She reminded him so much of someone he used to know and he swallowed the name before he let his emotions get the better of him.
“What the hell is wrong with your face?”
A grunt. A loud grunt, at that. Braith buried his dark ears in the thick curls of his mane at the question. He stepped away from the shore, casting one final look at his reflection. Once he stepped away from the water his muscles visibly relaxed, though the disgruntled expression did not leave his face.
"I don't know," he paused, turning toward her and narrowing his eyes with a flick of his tail. "What's wrong with yours?" It was rather lame as far as comebacks were concerned, but it had been quite some time since he had spoken to another. Let alone attempted to spar with his words.
Braith turned away from the stranger with a huff and dropped himself down onto his knees and then down onto his side. He tucked his legs up against his barrel, facing away from her. After a few moments he turned his head slightly, pinning his ears once again when he noticed he wasn't alone again.
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