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It was nice to meet him, she said. He had done little to make an impression on her, but the words were pleasing to hear. He thought it was nice to meet her too, though he wouldn’t openly admit this as easily as she just had. She was not Salsola—not an ally, and it made him wary of her, regardless of her satisfactory behaviour and appearance. He felt his body respond to her, and found himself somewhat puzzled at his willingness to interact with her. He was still young and blue eyed in the innocent sense. He didn’t know or understand the tricks simple hormones could play on him, yet.
She commented on the stallion’s name, and he was visibly confused for a moment. He was used to such names where he came from, and didn’t understand what was wrong with it. Then it dawned on him—she was joking. One ebony ear moved with slight embarrassment, but he kept his composure. ”Oh, well..” It wasn’t he that had decided the name. ”He was given to me as a gift from the Boss when I advanced from Bambino, so I wasn’t the one who named him..” his words did not flow forth with elegance, and he felt somewhat silly. It annoyed him that she made him feel this way, even if it wasn’t her fault.
Grace and foal. ”You can name it Foal,” he said, not feeling smarter by saying silly things.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the equipment he was seated with. ”Uh,” the man rumbled, wondering what to say. The hammer was already in his hand, and he aimed it at a nearby rock. ”Hammer to form virgin metal into a tool of choice,” he mumbled, unused with her open curiosity about the profession he recently decided to abandon. Oh, what would those home in Salsola say and do when they learned he had decided to fail them… ”Many more tools,” he quickly continued, gesticulating to the depths of his backpack, where more hammers and tongs rested. ”For work in the forge.”
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