The dead of night would have been unbroken in its darkness. However, the light that struck upon the ash-buried plainsland came not from the stars or the moon, but from the stallion that picked his way across them. The elegant horse was, perhaps, a bit thinner than normal, but he had seen harsh winters in the past and weathered them well. He knew how to find morsels and grasses that hadn’t been covered by the snow – or as it had been this winter, ash – ands how to dig for what was covered up. He knew how to smash the ice to get a drink from frozen streams. It did trouble him that the spring was not bringing the bounty it should have. However, he knew that eventually life would find its way again. Volcanic ash was fertile—humans had long flocked to the feet of volcanos that had spewed their ash and lava across the land, for the land became fertile over the course of a few turns of the seasons, after the lands had recovered from the blasts. Of course, not all ash was fertile soil in infant stages. It would take the help of small animals that burrowed beneath the ground, leaving seeds and pushing up earth from below, mixing with the ash. The lands would recover. In his now seven years, he and his mother and sister had traveled long distances, met many knowledgeable creatures, from other horses to primates. His mother had sought their knowledge to understand Taliesyn’s own uniqueness. Taliesyn paused as he reached the single stream that wound through the utterly flat grassland, head rising high as he scanned his surroundings. He might be lucky to have made it through winter with enough flesh on his bones to make it as long as he could until the land found its rhythms again, but predators were gaunt, and prey scarcer than usual. His glowing form made him stand out, and that wasn’t even factoring in his large size. Still, he bent his head to examine the mud and water before stepping into the stream and bending his head to drink. Streams were a safe source of water—the running water helped keep the ash from stagnating the water and making it undrinkable. Having drunk his fill, he made his way from the water and stood for a long moment, scanning the land around him. Thin animals shifted and stirred across the land, wary of him, but too hungry to give him much mind beyond their desperate pawing for grass that had not grown in yet. For the prey, it would likely be a lean, unproductive year. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Build me up from bones, Wrap me up in skin, Hold me close enough to breathe me in

Drífa journeyed south where the spring was milder in search of meadowsweet. She'd run through most of her stores over the winter and wanted to gather some fresh now that spring was finally here. It seemed that spring was cooler everywhere but if she was going to gather anything fresh going to the west or the south was her best bet. Drífa journeyed onto the plains of the dancefloor. As she grew older he joints were growing sorer and she failed to calculate for her slowed travel time. As such she arrived at the dancefloor after night had fallen. Still she wasn't going to stop now, she'd continue her search then find some place to bed down for the night.

As her eyes scanned the horizon her gaze froze on a strange looking beast. A pale white horse that seemed to glow. She blinked for a moment as she watched it. Her own pale form sometimes seemed to glow when she was struck with moonlight but the glow that came off this creature seemed to be something else. She didn't speak, but eyed the stallion warily, shifting her path to try and circle around it so she could continue on her way.

A form caught the stallion’s gaze, and he shifted to face the figure as it skirted well around him. It was a she-wolf, and the behemoth watched her for several beats before calling out with a gentle rumble. “Good Eve, Lady. How goes it?” Respect lay in his voice, as it always did when around the feminine of any species, though he held his place by the water, not approaching, but shifting side on to signal that he wouldn’t turn her away if she approached. Her furtive, wary movements didn’t signify in the slightest that he was in any danger, and a quick scan of his surroundings showed no shadowy wolf forms slinking to encircle him. And with prey animals as jumpy as they were, wolves would have set them off in an instant—indeed, they had already scattered at the sight of the woman. He stood alone, a glowing white beacon in the night, patiently waiting to see if she would hail him back, or approach, or leave. Occasionally, his thick tail flicked to chase away the gnats that liked the water’s edge and the moist air. The effect was a blinding blurry trail through the air as the glowing hairs flicked through the dark. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Build me up from bones, Wrap me up in skin, Hold me close enough to breathe me in

Drífa came to a sudden stop when the stallion spoke out to her. She was surprised to hear him speak the common tongue, although it wasn't unheard of it was uncommon in her experience to hear the common tongue from prey animals. Though she personally didn't consider horses prey but part of that had to do with them being so rare. Deciding she had little to lose and the stallion seeped so polite, she dipped her head in greeting. Just as she did so she spied the herb she was looking for. A little clump of meadowsweet gently swaying in the breeze. She smiled.

"Hello, sir. Much better now that I have found the meadowsweet I've been searching for." She strode forward and carefully began to snip stems of the plant to place down near her feet. "And how are you, sir? Are you new to these lands?"

Keen teal eyes noted the wolf’s sudden stop as he called out. However, after a moment, her head dipped and her eyes tracked down and her response brought a smile to the wrinkles of his eyes and a twitch to the soft lips of his muzzle. So, she was a healer, or an herb enthusiast? “I’d be willing to offer myself as a torch if you need it. The skies are so dark these days there’s little ambient light.” It was an odd offer from anyone other than a glowing horse or one with a literal torch of flame on a stick. Her conversation was taken as a conservative acceptance of his approach, and so he did, hooves thumping softly on the ground until he stopped at a respectful distance, to make conversation easier as he rumbled easily, “I came to the continent a bit before the mountain erupted. I was lucky to be on the western end here when it blew. The ash and upset will settle in time, though. Nothing can last forever. Aside from the leaner pickings, I'm well.” His eyes shifted to scan the dark for any other shadowy forms, habit of the creature he was. As blasé as he could be, he was still prey. “And you, Lady? I take it you’re a healer?” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Drífa bent her head to gather the meadowsweet. Her head turning elegantly to the side as she snipped a few fronds to add to her pack. It amused her to think that she might seem a herbivore to the inexperienced. A wolf, bending down to eat grass. She glanced up at the strange beast again as he explained how he'd arrived just before the volcano's eruption. Unfortunate timing but he seemed to be doing well. She bent her head to pick a few more fronds til she was satisfied.

She nodded. "Yes, I am. Trying to find what I can in these, as you said, leaner pickings." She carefully wrapped the herbs and placed them in her bag. "My name is Drífa? May I have the pleasure of knowing yours? And, if you don't mind me asking, what manner of creature are you? I have never seen a horse with a horn before, let alone one that glows."

His ears pricked forward in the thick mane as the wolf spoke, confirming she was a healer. As she introduced herself as Drifa, Taliesyn bowed, one foreleg neatly bent, haunches rocking back as he gave a court bow. Healers were to be venerated, regardless of species. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Drifa. I am Taliesyn Trystan Tempestien. I’ve many other names, but I tend to go by Taliesyn. And I am a horse. I was just… born a little differently. I’m also a twin, which is a rare anomaly in my kind. Twins rarely go well without losing the dam, or one or even both foals. It was more common when Man still ruled, but they are gone now.” He smiled as he spoke of the information. His mother had had many stories to tell of the humans that had bred and raised her before she’d escaped – read spooked at a mountain lion that had snuck into the farm and ended up barreling right through the pasture fence into the wild – and it was clear she had loved those humans. There was an ingrained loyalty left over from her upbringing. She was well into her teens by now, somewhere off in the wilds, shifting from band to band as nature decreed of the horse, now. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think