"My opinion is irrelevant," the mare said. "The question is, do you think you are a fool for having such pride?"

Hasan's scratching against the tree trunk slowed, and for a moment there was nothing but the rain, which had swelled to a heavy drumming, to fill the silence between them. It filled it well. The forest sang with it, every leaf a tiny cymbal upon which the water crashed. Hasan's ears twitched to and fro, finding distraction in the phantom sounds of branches snapping and leaf litter crunching beneath hooves; he did not like how much blinder he felt with the cacophany of precipitation, and felt a flare of anxiety at the thought that Warwick might be creeping through the trees without him knowing.

"I do not think you are," the mare continued, and Hasan realized a frown had furrowed its way between his eyes and into the set of his mouth. With careful nonchalance, he smoothed out his expression, stilled the twitching of his ears as best he could, and pulled away from the firmness of the maple tree to stand straight. He did not want the mare to think him ill-suited to her company, which he happened to be enjoying.

But as she continued, her words pregnant with poignance, Hasan felt himself simultaneously fascinated and out of place. He was no philosopher; he was a simple man, whose body and mind had just ridden a tidal wave of primal fight-or-flight hormones. His concerns were material and physical. But at the same time, he was very aware that this mare had, up until this moment, been a mystery to him, flitting as she did from shadow to shadow. He did not know when he would again have an opportunity to glimpse at her hidden depths.

A small smile curled at his white lips. "Profound," he remarked. "You're full of surprises, sunshine. And I suppose I could offer you some grand promises as to how I plan to 'wield' my own pride, but I fear it wouldn't sound anywhere near as pretty as what you just said. Besides, I believe action is the best communicator. Words are, in the end, just wind."

A low rumble of thunder, like the purr of an ancient sky-god, shook Hasan's bones. He let it ebb away before continuing.

"I enjoy listening to yours, though. Why do you keep so far from the herd? I would like to hear them more."