salt and shadow
The ivory stallion brushes through the trees of the Crossing, thinking about the differences between this place and Atlantis as the naked branches skim lightly over his coat. He’s not exactly prepared for winter, having come from the tropical Paradise, but he’s burly enough beneath his fine pale coat that the cold doesn’t bother him terribly. If he paused to linger on the temperature and the snow stuck in his feathering, he might pick up a bit of a shiver, but he’s too excited — and nervous — to dwell on it.
Azrael breaks through the trees and into the Meadow, a place that’s entirely unfamiliar to him. The entire Crossing is unfamiliar, or it was until yesterday, the first time he’s actually left his birthplace. He doesn’t have much of a reason for exploring; maybe it’s because he can now, where he couldn’t before. He intends to return to his small family and his twin sisters in the next day or so with a fun little adventure story.
The meadow is patched with snow, and Azrael pauses to scan the open area before continuing. He spots movement across the chilly plain in the form of someone leaving; a stallion, slipping away toward — is it the Lagoon that way? — some destination beyond the boundaries of the meadow, and the willingness of his company, it seems. He leaves behind a painted red-gold mare who reminds him a little of his younger sister.
He whinnies a greeting and picks up a light trot, thoroughly committing to saying hello to this stranger before he sees that her expression is not exactly… approachable. Azrael slows when he nears enough to pick up on her agitation, but it’s too late to stop, so he closes the rest of the distance between them at a walk, and stops a few strides away.
"Hello," he says, his tone a balance of friendly and shy. His ivory tail swishes at his barred hind legs, betraying his nervous excitement.
“Do you live here? I’ve never been here before.”