Vasinsayir was not himself, and he had not been for quite some time. He could not even pinpoint when he had begun to feel so insecure, fearful. He used to think of nature as beautiful and peaceful. He always felt at home and could lose himself as he took a stroll through the forest down a poorly-lit trail. But nature --and people-- were not always beautiful, fair, peaceful, or pleasant. He was seeing that more and more each day. What he was learning left him wanting to stay home. He absolutely could not do such a thing because he felt a need to be outdoors. As unhappy as he had been, he felt most "right" when he was out in it. And likewise, no matter how many times he was harassed.
And then one day he had seen
her. Another centaur like himself. At first he had captured mere glimpses of her through the trees while going on her way, and he left in confusion and searching afterward. Such is the way of the forest sometimes. When he had seen her just once sitting on a log by the pond, he had been left wondering if she would ever return. They were flights of fancy really, with no connections between each encounter (if one could call it that), no sort of pursuit or rhyme or reason. If someone were to suggest such a thing --spying, planning, stalking, or simply just wondering and following each clue aimlessly-- he probably would have abandoned any notion of looking for her ever again. Such behavior was just too embarrassing. Certainly not... not
him. And so without much thought to what he actually was doing (indeed, 'simply doing' had always been his way), he had established a sort of pattern of finding and watching, then at some point slipping away unnoticed, at least as far as he knew.
She was so beautiful and seemed to love nature as much as he did. Looking out over that scenic pond like that, at the very least she could be contemplating life in general or her problems, it didn't matter, really. But from all that he was learning about the potential ugliness within people, he found himself absolutely terrified of the notion of simply asking, 'what is it you are thinking of?' Then she spoke, all at once answering his question. Hearing her voice was so out of the ordinary to him, but it seemed equally
natural to reply: "Aren't geese just ill-tempered by nature?"
When he realized that he had actually spoken to her, he all but squeaked, "Oh!" and disappeared into the underbrush. But he was mortified and unable to move any further, cowering and hiding his glowing face.
(got a little long, sorry. >< <3 )
