The red-lined mare takes a step closer, and another, and pauses. Fell watches her, curious, his eyes drawn to the red-and-white flecked ears that curl over her pretty face. She gives a shake, strands of mane and forelock coming undone from their neat placements and falling haphazardly now across her forehead. Fell does not quite understand the motion, but he likes the look of her this way, and he gives his head a little bob of appreciation. His ears, cupped forward with interest, flick once as she speaks.

She gives her name, and though he is sure the desert mare knows his name, and perhaps even already knows of his muteness, he still feels like he must dance around the awkwardly empty place where his own voice should go in response. There was never a time in his life when he could introduce himself, but he knows that this is how it’s done; he’s seen introductions transpire between countless others, and he’s had to endure the awkward, expectant pause as someone waits for him to speak. The want to introduce himself in response is not so much a physical push, and the resulting silence is not inherently unwelcome to Fell himself; rather, the discomfort is a learned one, picked up or forced upon him by others, even when one does not intend to make him feel other.

He still feels it now, though Mṛgaśira does not leverage the expectation of a response against him. Instead of waiting for him to do something, the pale mare steps tentatively closer still. Fell does not get the impression that she is afraid, but neither is she overly bold. She seems to be calculating, testing the waters, pale muzzle extending to examine the coarse black ends of his mane.

It leaves the need for Fell to participate in a verbal conversation behind, and for this he is grateful. Still, she had offered a shortened version of her name to him, and as her breath stirs the wiry hairs beneath his jaw, Fell utters a hoarse “Si,” barely louder than a whisper. His own breath comes in thin steam, and he mimics her, reaching forward to flick a strand of forelock away from one hooked ear with his whiskered lip.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.