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The change of seasons was indeed mourned by some, but also welcomed by others. The stallion relished the chance to stretch his long legs, humming low in his throat to accompany the rankling screech of cicadas, joining them in their last few hours. But new songs would swell as the buzz of insects and cheerful, chirping birds faded, like the sound of a chilled breath whispering among fallen leaves that crunched and crackled with each step. Rhythms and tunes were everywhere--but only those who listened would hear them. So many Soquili were too busy to stop and smells the roses. Kasthem simply just didn't see the rush.

Though his shaggy locks obscured most of his vision, the unicorn had a lazy sort of saunter to his step as he wove through the trees, clearly unhindered by the lack of sight. There was a cheerful sort of chime whenever he ducked his head, the tiny bells woven within his hair rattling to-and-fro as though to add to his melody. Dumb luck would have it that he would unknowingly pass by the mare such as she was bidding her farewell, sleek ears twitching at her words until he paused.

"Good bye, gentle voices," He mused, his voice deep as he struggled to weave it into something more rhythmic. "Good bye, warm winds and insect-songs... But hello to falling leaves, to winter's arriving song~ And hello, to you." He tossed his head some, but his eyes seemed permanently hidden underneath his hair. "You could make that into a nice poem." He said idly, another hum stirring in his chest before he craned his neck down to pluck a clover for himself.

If he'd noticed her sudden fit of temper, the stallion chewed thoughtfully on the sweet little bloom, enjoying the flavor that spread across his tongue. His tail swept to and fro, swatting lazily at his flanks to keep the biting bugs at bay. For all intents and purposes, he looked as though he had hardly a care in the world right now. Of course, it was nice when she chose to reply, and his long muzzle shifted downward as though to investigate whatever she was speaking of.

"This?" He offered as he idly nosed at the necklace around his neck, causing the bells to chirp once more. "A gift. From a two-legger. Very thoughtful for their kind. And these," Kasthem shook his head a little so the bells can sound, "Came with." He paused for a moment before remembering the last bit of her question. "It doesn't hurt. I always forget it's there until something reminds me." There was a faint grin at that, almost absent-minded.

"I like you." He decided. "Most don't stop to think of the changing seasons. My name's Kasthem." Silence while he chewed and, eventually, swallowed. "Are you sad that winter comes?"

There was a thoughtful nod at that before he tossed his head once more, valiantly trying to see... but again, not seeming ruffled when his attempt failed. "It is sad... This is the best time to hear the songs of nature. Everything's so full of life. But, it's sort of a miracle in itself that they can all come back when the warmth returns--and with them, their music."

Though he was puzzled for a moment at her gesture, a surprisingly broad grin would tug at his face as he suddenly grasped her meaning. "Ahh, music of my own. Listen." He had no issues with 'performing' in front of her, his chest soon filled with the low, deep sound that soon had swelled into his throat. It was a low, but rich hum, and he let it rise and fall for a moment before it died away.

"You try." He offered, still grinning as though he was suddenly a colt. "It's like talking, but without words. Just the noise."

His tail had began to swish at the note she offered in turn, faintly bobbing his head as he listened. Of course, it unexpectedly broke off, and Kasthem tilted his head slightly as though he could hear the reason why. It started again, and stopped just as quickly, and he could hear the faint irritation running through her tones. "Doesn't sound right? It sounded lovely. Go on, try it again--and hold it this time!"

After a moment more of considering, he added, "It's just for fun, too, so don't stress out about it." And then he waited idly, ready to lend his voice to hers. Nothing wrong with a little harmonizing to past the time, particularly when a girl who wanted to learn was attached to it!

"If you clench your teeth that hard, you might hurt 'em." He idly nosed at her cheek as though that would help her loosen up some. "Just relaaax. Try it one more time, and we'll see if we can make something real nice come out." He was looking forward to it.

There it was; a nice, soft sound that his voice could wrap around, the lower, more bass-like support so her higher tones could stand out quite clearly. The stallion's tail twitched as though trying to set a time for the beat, and after a moment of experimenting with how the sounds could rise and fall together, Kasthem allowed his to gently die off.

"See? Wasn't that good?" He seemed quite pleased with the results, that broad grin again in place while he shifted some, lowering his head as though to peer at the mare through his hair. "Sounds better, doesn't it? I prefer company, so I'll miss all the little bugs out here who like to lend their voices."

A stretch, and he gave his head a hard enough shake to send the bells chirping in alarm. "You should hum more often, practice some--it'd be a shame to not hear your voice again." Came the sage, if laid back advice before he took the opportunity to snatch another blossom.

Chomp, chew, chew. "I don't see why you couldn't." Kasthem agreed pleasantly at that, seeming to like the idea. "Then we could experiment more. I think it would be fun." He pondered over her other question more slowly, having no need to rush for an answer. "I don't know," Came the frank reply. "I haven't tried it with many people before. Sometimes, simple is best. It might just grow loud and irritating if there was too much sound."

Stretching out his legs some, an amused note thrummed in his chest for a moment. "Myself, mostly. Sometimes the wind, if there's a breeze. Sometimes the river, if it feels like burbling loud enough. Nature is always willing to sing with me, even if most Soquili aren't." That seemed to make him grin for some reason. "But you're connected with the flowers by name, aren't you? So I think that's why it didn't bother you. You pay attention to the little things, and that's good." It was a pleasant realization, after meeting so many who always had their heads up in the clouds. Being grounded wasn't so bad!

"Simple is best." He only repeated with a lazy sort of grin before pausing to listen. "I don't think so, either. But to some, what do they care when all the green withers away? It'll come back. They don't stop to think about it..." A sigh then, but he seemed more content than exasperated.

"You're observant. Tell me, what do you see that you think others don't?" There was no challenge or scorn in his words; he was quite frankly interested. She was different. How, he hadn't exactly been able to pinpoint... so perhaps she knew better than he. It was her mind, after all! Amused with himself, the stallion began to hum low and deep in his throat, filling up the silence with sound so he at least had something to listen to while he waited.