I see your ghost in the middle of the night;
i talk to shadows that you left behind
The other colt seems a bit shy, but this does not trouble Khoshekh. The solid black yearling watches as the other boy rolls down into the grass, gazing up at the clouds and extending a leg to point at a few.
A bunny, and a bear. Khoshekh cranes his neck to look up at the clouds as well, but he soon finds the other boy has the better idea. Kho circles one, twice, then buckles his knees and flops onto the cushioned earth next to his new friend. He lies opposite the other colt, shoulder-to-shoulder, his barrel expanding with soft breaths close to Kvasir’s head while Khoshekh’s own temple hovers a short distance from the colt’s speckled flank. If he curls his neck inward, he can see the other boy’s face just fine — and if he leans back into the grass, he had a perfect view of the clouds.
He ponders a moment, considering the clouds soberly.
“Hey that one kinda looks like a bird!” he bursts, excited that he has found a familiar shape in the fluffy white abstract. He tucks his neck to peer over at the other colt, proud that he’s successfully participated in this new game.
The painted boy introduces himself as Kvasir, and Khoshekh beams.
“I’m Khoshekh!” he says, his head thumping softly back into the grass.
“But you can call me Kho, if you want! I’m not from here, I came from the Bay today. It’s a lot warmer here,” he chatters. The wind ushers the clouds gently across the sky, slowly morphing their shapes. The bird Kho has been watching is changing, beginning to look more like —
“Hey that bird kinda looks like a lizard now,” he says, laughing.
“It grew a tail!”
