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It was the rising sun which did the mischief. Somehow, no matter how much Guiliaume attempted to situate himself, he always ended up waking at sunrise. Tucking his head under one wing, his preferred method of sleeping, only changed the color of the light to red; putting a building between himself and the Eastern sky only delayed the inevitable. Rather than enjoying the simple pleasures of 'sleeping in', he was awake before the roosters had even finished crowing.

To be sure, he had never been one to laze about. While no athlete, Guiliaume was a firm believer in quiet industry and always liked to be doing something...even if that was just standing quietly off on the sidelines and trying to make some sense out of the bizarre behavior of the humans in this little village.

~~~

He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been in this village; weeks, at the very least. What had started out as a desire to get away from chaos had become an interesting social opportunity; a chance to experience the lifestyle of the human-friendly Soquili, to see other Soquili in general, and to work on his language skills. It had been peculiar at first, but he felt he was finally starting to 'fit in.'

Mostly, anyway.

Dawn saw him rustling his wings and shaking out his mane, but not from the inside of the barn. He was NEAR the barn, to be sure; comfortably tucked up against the western wall, in fact. But very early on in this experiment, he'd decided that barn dwelling was simply not for him; how could he feel at ease and allow himself to sleep when he was completely boxed in, with not even the sky open to him? No, he'd lived out of doors his entire life, and out of doors he would remain. He'd been a trifle concerned at first that this would be taken as rudeness or a refusal of the village's hospitality, but so far he had experienced no such fallout.

For this, among other things, he was very grateful.

It didn't take Guiliaume long to take care of his morning ablutions; a few shakes of his head were that that was needed to situate his mane, a few more for his tail, and a ruffle of his wings would smooth down any stray feathers. Even first thing in the morning, his red coat was glossy and his neck ribbon perfectly tied; much as he might deny it, he was definitely his parents' son when it came to wanting to look his best at all time! Though if that matter were broached, Guiliaume himself would be quick to point out that there was a difference in 'dressing to entrance' as it were and simply wanting to look presentable.

Satisfied that he was in order, or at least as much order as he could determine in the absence of a reflecting pool, Guiliaume trotted out from behind the barn to see what was what. A drink would be a good start, but beyond that he had no determinate plans for the morning. He smiled slightly; that had been the way of things more often than not since he'd come to the village. It was strange at first, not having a truly tangible goal, but he had come to enjoy the more free-flowing arrangement. It left him free to observe and to interact with the humans, who, he had been pleased to see, had been most respectful of him and his personal space both!

He had observed Aziza herself tended to be an early riser, though her morning rountine appeared to be much more established and specific than his own, specifically with regards to her interaction with one of the humans. He found their relationship most peculiar, but he could suppose it made sense, if it was what one was accustomed to.

He doubted it would even be something he could be comfortable; like barns, too much human interaction was unsettling. But he was happy to remain on the fringes, nodding at the humans, practicing his language skills, attempting to help Aziza with hers. He didn't seem to be much of a teacher, but she was making progress, and that was good!

And speak of the devil. As he came around towards the watering trough, he was greeted by the sight of the masked mare, herself looking around the area. In much more comfortable and flowing French than their first meeting, he greeted her. "Good morning, Aziza; either you awakened very early indeed, or I have been more of a heavy sleeper than usual today. How are you feeling?"

Guiliaume would have been mortified if he'd had any idea that Aziza suspected his grooming habits were the crux behind his early rising. Looking one's best was one thing, but primping was another thing entirely. Thanks to good genes, his coat was always glossy and his mane and tail were thick and almost automagically remained tangle-free; shaking out his hair and straightening his feathers took about five minutes on a good day. But there were some things that Guiliaume felt to be a private experience, and his (or anyone's) grooming habits fell firmly in that camp. Having never brought up the subject or had the subject brought up, how was he to know?

So he remained in peaceful ignorance, which was probably for the best!

"Early enough, considering the sun is barely above the horizon," He replied with a smile, then ducked his head modestly at the praise. It was true that he didn't have to stop and puzzle things out as much anymore, but it still seemed oddly boastful to talk about it or accept compliments. He still needed a lot of work, after all!

So he quickly turned the compliment back around, his sincerity hopefully making this acceptable. "Any credit has to go to you for your kind instruction and patience; otherwise I'd still be uttering inadvertent insults." He chuckled self-consciously, thinking back on one or two rather...unfortunate episodes. "But I do feel I am getting better, perhaps to the point of a longer, more private conversation with my father." It would certainly be nice to discuss...certain things...without have to worry about being overheard and understood by everyone around!

"Obviously practice will continue to be very important, but I am feeling rather confident. As you should be, about your Kawani." Without batting an eyelash, he switched into that language, asking solicitously, "Are you feeling better about your vocabulary?" Tenses and participles were fine and dandy, but what one really needed to know was nouns!

Guiliaume was making great strides in language, this much was true. But it would take a lot longer before he felt he had made an adequate stride in his conversational skills. In spite of, or perhaps because of, his raucous upbringing, getting too personal was something that made Guiliaume intensely uncomfortable, and his previous attempts to have a true conversation about his past with his father had ended badly. It was much better to build up to his next attempt with something much less high-stakes.

It was a sign of his uncertainty on the subject that he didn't wish to discuss it further, even with as non-threatening and uninvolved a party as Aziza. He could appreciate her support and encouragement, but even such casual conversation as this required too much musing on uncomfortable subjects. Though he did give himself a little credit; while out on his own on his (theoretically) daily constitutional, he did quite a bit of thinking about his family.

Though honestly, it was enough to give one a headache. He found it much easier to parse sentences and drill vocabulary, whether French or Kawani. And perhaps Aziza thought he was laying it on a bit thick, but he was being completely sincere in his praises. After all, he had spoken French, once, sort of. She hadn't had the same opportunity with regard to the local language, as far as he was aware, and that was bound to make a difference!

So he greeted her brief response with an encouraging nod. "Understanding is the most important step." But not wanting to be too pushy or schoolmarmish so early in the day, he switched back to French pretty quickly. Unless she wanted to work on her Kawani, it was rather rude to push it on her! "I was thinking of going for a circuit of the village. Would you care to join me?"

With Aziza at his side, Guiliaume started off at a nice brisk walking pace, heading out past the barn and the outskirts of the village to the open space beyond. It was still early, after all, and while many of the villagers were no doubt up and about there was no sense in rousing anyone who wasn't with their chatter. To be sure, neither he nor Aziza was especially prone towards raising their voices, but it never hurt anything to be courteous.

This was evidenced by the particularly cordial tilt of the conversation, and he smiled at Aziza, whose care and solicitation for his comfort had been prominent since he first came to the village. "Very well, thank you. The night was mild, and there was a pleasant breeze to keep the flies away. It made for a beautiful night, and a very refreshing sleep." He had fallen asleep watching the stars and listening to the gentle murmurs of human voices mixed with the equally gentle drone of woodland insects; it hadn't been a bad lullaby, not by a long shot!

At her question of rain, he would have chuckled, were it not for the fact that being non-winged herself, she would have no reason to be aware of the obvious. So he kept any displays of humor to himself, merely smiling and spreading his wings wide in demonstration. "Tuck my head under my wings, of course. The feathers are very strong and water resistant, they keep me quite dry and comfortable underneath, barring a true deluge. In that case, I would try to find a suitable overhang. But for the most part, I don't mind the rain."

Glancing sideways at Aziza as he lowered his wings, he asked curiously, "Are you truly comfortable spending your nights sealed inside a box?"

Aziza's comment about his hindquarters caused Guiliaume to give his posterior a querying glance, more out of reflex than actual query. After all, he knew very well how he slept, so this was hardly a shocking revelation! But an appropriate response was needed, so after pondering for a few moments, he simply gave Aziza a shrug. "Perhaps that part of my anatomy is better adapted to harsh weather conditions? I don't know why that would be, but I do no it never phases me to be out in the rain as long as my head is covered. Probably a...hazard of growing up out of doors?" He smiled at that, flicking his glossy black tail as though to demonstrate its lack of concern about the weather. No weather ever seemed to have bothered it!

Obviously they each had their own definition of what was a lesser of two evils; for him, rain no longer registered with him and was not even remotely as bad as the claustrophobic sensation of being close up. For Aziza, the box lifestyle was safe and comfortable, protecting her from the elements and whatever other hazards lay beyond.

Though her musing opened up a new piece of information to Guiliaume, one he may have guessed at previously but not had confirmed. With his most careful manner, on the chance it was a sensitive or delicate subject, he commented, "So you were born in one of those...barns? Does that mean your family has always been among these humans, then?" Obviously she herself was very familiar with the mannerisms and quirks of the resident two legged population, but how long she'd been around had been something of a mystery. It was such a symbiotic relationship that one couldn't help but wonder how it had gotten started! "But please don't feel compelled to answer if I ask anything personal. Personal...discretion should always be encouraged and will always be respected.

It was fascinating, just how many differences there could be in the upbringing of two Soquili of a similar age. Guiliaume still found the whole thing very strange, because regardless of how comfortable and protected the barn life was, it was still captivity. The very idea of being confined and dependent on others was enough to make his every defensive instinct rebel. After all, what happened if those giant doors got stuck? It would be hard to manage the latches without hands, and the wooden walls were thick enough that it would take a lot of hoof effort to get through. No, thank you.

“It seems like such an unusual thing, a Soquili family living with humans for so long. Not that I am one to make any determinations on what is and isn't normal, given my own upbringing.” They were passing through the middle of the village now, and the wooden buildings were as numerous as trees in a wood. Still, the open sky kept the place from feeling too confining...at this hour. There still weren't too many of the oddly dressed humans out and about, making their random noises and doing their random tasks. They had mostly gotten used to him, but he was still working on getting used to them! ”What originally brought your parents to the decision to live with humans, if I may ask?”

Touche, Aziza; touche. At her mention of his personal adornments, Guiliaume almost reflexively reached up to touch the black ribbon he wore at his throat. Many Soquili sported some sort of neckwear, whether the gift of a friend, the result of their own search and explorations, or some sort of family heirloom. In his 'fashion sense,' Guiliaume was very much in line with those Soquili. He always wore his choker; was never without it, in fact: a black silken ribbon, fastened at his neck with a silver brooch. Indeed, for a Soquili who had never before lived among humans, it was a downright unusual ornament.

And, truth be told, it was one he had never discussed with anyone, nor felt likely to begin discussing any time soon. On the day he had, calmly and without regret, told his mother he was leaving on a quest to find his father. His mother had listened in that passive, lethargic manner of hers that was apparently so alluring to all the males, and he had turned to leave, convinced that there would be no regret on either side. But she had surprised him, asking him to hold a minute. From her own mane, she removed the ribbon, which had been braided in amongst the hair, and fastened it with a brooch that had been given to her by one of her many admirers. It had taken a long time for her to manipulate the brooch, but she had managed tolerably well in the end.

On one hand, the gift had done nothing to change Guiliaume's opinion of his mother, or change his desire to leave. But it had made him think. And it still did, when the thought occurred to him.

But it was certainly no 'natural-born' ornament, and couldn't even claim to be a natural-grown decoration, like his roses. No sooner had he touched the necklace with his wing than the wing had dropped, and he inclined his head towards Aziza in solemn acquiescence. "You have a point. Though I would say for my own that an ornament is slightly different than a lifestyle, they are neither of them truly natural to Soquili, something we are actually born with or to." He walked on, nodding thoughtfully at her simple explanation. It made sense, to take something at face value just because it was the way your family had always done it. Wasn't that why he now wore a black rose in his mane? He liked the scent of the flower, but there were many other types of flowers he could have sported, many far simpler to acquire. Even roses of other colors were an option, but he wore a black rose because it was his family's way.

"There is something to be said for familiarity and comfort, and I suppose there is something to be said for the tradition of living with humans. I doubt I would be able to be as comfortable with such behavior in the long run, but then...I wasn't raised in it, so what could be regarded as comfort is more claustrophobic." He paused, then chuckled at Aziza as they rounded the corner of a few large structures. "I suppose I sound rather a snob, don't I? Especially since I continue to enjoy your hospitality. Truly though, it is not my intention."