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The stallion hummed, eventually giving up, for now, and just listening to the song. He lay his chin over the mare's forelocks and rested his eyes. "I've never heard a mare melodying. It's pretty."

Cavin tilted his head to look down at his 'pillow'. "Music?" He muttered. "Sing?" He pondered the trees overhead while he listened to her humming. He'd heard his mother chirp little tunes while she dressed her feathers in her morbid collection, and his father chortle short, pointless little ditties when he'd managed to bag himself a warm stable for the evening, but... Nothing as consistent or pretty as what this mare let pour from her throat. It was... Soothing... Relaxing. And, oddly, something he wanted to participate in, despite a lack of experience in it. "I thought you said you were 'melody'ing?"

Cavin listened for another minute or two, his mind working to log the tune and work words into it. He began working them into their place when a new round of the tune started, his own voice low and sultry as he muttered words that came to his mind; a mildly poetic collaboration that was, in it's best description, a clumsy attempt at choreographing his tongue to behave in the course.

Cavin's own mind had viced around the moment, eager to hold it's peace and solitude as long as possible. The fact that he wasn't alone didn't bother him at all, given the company he was doomed to, in the first place, and he continued to work his beak around words that barely fit the tune, reworking the lyrics with the second run-through to de-kink some of the phrasing.

This was no different than poetry, really. He'd always held a passion for that, it was just... Poetry with another layer. He still worked at adjusting his voice to match the tune, occasionally flat, or miscounting a syllable on either end of the spectrum.

But it was fun. Fun and quiet, and introspective... And something he was finding he enjoyed doing. He paused after a moment, peering down at her through one eye, pushed to the farthest reaches it could and still retrieve information on the creature below it. "If I... Said anything that hurt... I guess I'm sorry. You asked for honesty, and... Really, that's the only way I know how to deliver it."

Cavin blinked down at her, the words seeming to imply something that set up warning flags in his mind. Rather than address it as was his instinct to do, he swallowed his apprehension and mentally fed himself reasons not to get up and run away. 'I'm comfortable... She's comfortable... Anemone...' It became a sort of mantra, until he calmed down, some.

It certainly pleased him that he made her happy, but the open statement of it only brought to mind his father's galloping through stables and philandering with every mare in sight and left his bloodthirsty mother to tend to the nest the odd couple had spawned. He didn't want to be that ridiculous creature, but her gaze, those lovely golden eyes... He wanted to stay with her for hours, just staring into them while the stars were hung overhead by the painters of the evening, while the blue sky lit itself on fire in the early morning, as it had, now.

Cavin sighed, laying his head along hers, again. "It... It's not like that..." He muttered. "I just... Don't wanna turn out like my dad..." He sighed as he thought. He'd never spoken out so honestly... about himself. Noone seemed to care what he had on his mind, so he didn't figure it was worth talking about. He still didn't, now; it was spoiling the mood.

He hissed a couple cusses at the stallion that had fathered him, mentally, before sighing. "Just... Forget it. Nevermind." He murmured, joining in with the song, or starting it up again, enjoying her voice and curious what the two would sound like together. He'd never met a mare that seemed so interesting... Or interested in him. She was right: He didn't know how to respond. He was afraid of what might happen, whatever would come out of his hayhole.

Cavin looked down at her, a little startled, but sighed and shrugged, preening her feathers as she fell to physical needs. He would remain as long as he was needed... Or until he was told to leave, resting himself. He only let himself fall into a half-snooze, though, determined to listen out for any potential dangers that rested in the forest.

When he grew annoyed at the silence, he again struck up the song, a touch off key without a guide and no ear for keeping his own tempo developed yet, but remaining gentle and low-toned, all the same. He turned to preen the mare next to him once, and set upon the feathers of his free wing afterwards, fussing over the feathers' positions until he felt they were right. He would doze off some time before Liron would wake, though. Not much longer after she'd fallen asleep, really, though he at no point fell very deep into it, tucking his beaked head under the wing that hugged her to nap.