Spring had begun to touch the world, and he had long since begun to shed out the glowing white, shimmering winter coat. Tufts of hair clung to trees, carpets of it layered the grass in places he’d rolled and rubbed his itching hid into the ground. Wangui did her best to rub and scrape the stallion’s winter coat off but a lemur could only do so much, so it was left to the rocks and trees and ground to get the hair off. When he rolled in the stream on the Dancefloor, hair floated in glowing swirls downstream. He was pristine, having worked himself through the stream several hours ago. Now he grazed contentedly on the new spring grass in the basin south of the Dancefloor. Isolde taxied in the air, high, high above, a speck in the blue sky, though her eyes were keen enough that she could stoop and warn him of an approach well before the approaching creature, friend or foe, might know of his presence. She did so now, and his head lifted, chewing pausing as he sought out what she’d spotted, ears perked in the thick mane. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

She often liked to venture beyond Lirim nowadays. The thought of Zell now buried in the ground a little too painful for the old woman to handle. Sure they hadn't been mates let alone romantically involved or anything, but they had grown to depend on one another as they helped each other in their old age. She often tending to his illnesses with her remedies and he helping her to walk when she had difficulties doing so. Since he passed, however, she started moving around more and became independent once again. Just like she had been before arriving in Lirim. Even if it was harder for her now that she was an ancient creature, but she didn't want to burden the younger members of the pack with her troubles.

The small wolf shuffled along, the clear skies hanging above her and the stream to her left. She paused here and there to take a drink of water before ambling on, grateful that this time, the streams were clear and not filled with Ash. As she moved, however, she noticed there were odd tufts of hair floating about and it was unlike fur she had seen before. What kind of creature was shedding so much? The answer came soon enough as she spotted a pristine white figure much larger than her small self, and she immediately recognized the species. Unafraid of the beast, she continued her old lady shuffle before pausing a couple of yards away and tilting her head up to look at him. "Are you the one leaving your hair everywhere? I didn't know horses shed so much. You a pretty pony though, and what's that growin' out of your head? Did that monkey on your back tie a stick to your forehead? I don't think I've seen anything like it before," She squinted as she looked at him, trying to get a clearer look since...well...her eyesight wasn't so great anymore, either. She wasn't trying to be rude or anything, she was just not as young as she used to be and her eyesight was slowly waning.

The wolf that came into sight was aged, visibly so. It was in the squint of her eyes as she came closer. But the flood of questions was much like what might come from the lips of a foal full of questions about the world around her. Wangui scoffed softly at being called a monkey, retorting, ”Lemur!” before Taliesyn gave his frame a brisk shake to remind her of her manners. There was no danger in this wolf, and so, he didn’t shift to flee her approach, instead smiling with some apology as he spoke. “Please forgive Wangui’s brusque nature. She’s grumpy on the best of times. And yes. You’d never expect a horse to have this much hair but when spring hits I’m my own personal blizzard of hair. And it’s a horn. It grew with me. A lot of my own kind mistake me for being a mythical being called a unicorn, but I’m simply a horse born with some interesting physical quirks.” Wangui snorted her disagreement. The stallion glowed like no other creature she’d met, and she still sometimes had to be reconvinced that he wasn’t some benevolent god. He chuckled softly at the lemur before adding to the woman, “I am Taliesyn Trystan Tempestien, by the way, son of Obsidian.” Maybe the mention of the black mare who had lived amongst wolves would trigger a response? He doubted it. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think