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This was madness. Sheer and utter, completely inescapable madness; there was no other definition for it, no other way that Guirien could rationalize his behavior. Well, no other way that made him feel any better. In the weeks that had passed since he had left his home, he had been grappling with himself, trying to figure out what his true motivation for doing something so ludicrous actually was. Every time he came even close to what he knew was the truth, he retreated mentally, causing him to reflect on the irony of the whole situation: he couldn't admit even to his own self what it was that bothered him, what it was that motivated him to leave the home of his youth, leave his family, and just dive out into the world.

The alternative was troubling, though, because it made him feel like a brat. Specifically, it made him feel like and ungrateful brat, and that was even worse. Because the facts of the matter were that somewhere in his mind, Guirien knew exactly what he was doing, exactly what motivated him to pull this crazy stunt. He simply couldn't tell anyone about it, or even admit it to himself, lest he sink once again into the overwhelming bitterness and despair that had once driven the pink stallion to consider violence.

Sighing, Guirien leaned back against the tree trunk, lifting his head up so it pressed against the rough bark of the oak. It wasn't much of a sight that way, merely the mostly bare branches of the tree, but he hadn't come here for sight-seeing. In fact, he hadn't really come here for anything, other than it was another stop on the way to elsewhere.

~~~~

Guirien was the youngest of three sons born to Amarantine, second daughter of Guilian, and a stallion called Requiem. His youth had been less than ideal from the get-go: Requiem had been panicked at the arrival of foals do to other family complications, and had been absent since Guirien could remember. Amary, though affectionate and warm, was also selfish, indolent, and completely devoted to her own pleasure; though she was obviously fond of her sons, she had almost no maternal instincts and often left the young colts alone for days on end. On the rare occasions that she realized in advance that she would be gone for a while, she would maybe try to see if someone could watch them, but more often than not the colts were left completely to their own devices. As a result, from a very young age Guirien had learned the importance of self-reliance; there was no one you could depend on but yourself.

It was through Amary's few attempts to have the boys looked after that Guirien first came to know his maternal uncle, Antony, and his lifemate Lessy. This at first had been a shock to the colt: Antony and Loveless were both kalonas. Well, half-kalona, in Antony's case, but with the wings, fangs, and massive size of that notoriously violent breed. Guirien had always been very small even for a normal stallion, so his uncle was a massive figure for him (and still was!). But in spite of their fearsome appearance, the two had been more than willing to watch Guirien and to let him into their little family circle. At first, Guirien had only stayed with them when Amary took him there, but it wasn't long before he grew bolder and began going there himself, first when Amary was gone for any time, and then indefinitely. Neither uncle nor aunt said anything about their now-permanently attached nephew, but Guirien had always wondered how much they knew. All that he knew was that with them, he was happy.

This happiness continued with the birth of his younger cousins, born when he was still a colt. Although kalonas in appearance, they adopted him as well and he fit right in, 'one of the family' with his larger cousin. In spite of the fact that they looked nothing alike, he was as much a sibling as any of them.

At least, that was the theory. On the surface, Guirien was as cheerful and well-adjusted as any of them, affectionate and teasing as any older brother. But internally, there were darker forces at work.

Since coming to live permanently with his uncle's family, Guirien had seen his own mother a scant time or two, and in those couple meetings hadn't made any inquiries about him or his living situation. She didn't seem to notice or care that her son was living elsewhere, didn't seem concerned that HE had abandoned HER, or even miss him. He had never harbored any illusions about what his mother was, but it stung more than he would ever admit to be so expendable.

He drew solace from the love and affection of his uncle's family, but that failed to fill the void. Indeed, sometimes their love made it worse, because he had a daily example of true family love. Antony and Lessy were devoted to each other and unashamedly adored their children, who loved their parents right back; it was an idyllic family...and he was on the outside, looking in. No matter how welcoming they were, he was still an outsider. He wasn't a true child of the family, and when he allowed himself to think about it it filled him with unshaking envy. He loved his cousins, and at the same time he hated them for being born into the home life that he'd been denied. He loved his aunt and uncle, and hated his mother and father for conceiving him without wanting him.

But he'd rather slit his own throat than ever let his adopted family know of his inner turmoil, so externally he projected an image of complete goofiness and joy. Outwardly, he told the most outrageous jokes, was the most confident tease, was in the highest spirits, was the sunniest personality; he apparently embraced his small stature and bright pink coat with bravado and grace, and teased his cousins for their more restrained appearances. But inside, he hated his looks, hated his small stature; hated the link with his detested mother. He wanted to scream, stamp his feet, and give voice to the burning emotions inside him...but he couldn't.

~~~

It had all become too much one day, though, and without telling anyone why, he had just left. That had been several weeks ago, and Guirien had long since left the forest of his home behind. The scenery surrounding him now was foreign; the rolling foothills around him gave way in the distance to an imposing set of mountains. He had no idea where he was, or where he was going...

And for now, that was just fine.

It had been so long since Guirien had seen another Soquili that he'd almost begun to think that he'd wandered in uninhabited lands. That had perhaps made him more careless than he ought to be, especially given that he was in unknown territory. His aunt would be quite ashamed of him, but the facts of the matter were that he was completely oblivious to the mare's presence right up until she spoke.

But immediately upon hearing a voice, his head was back down, zeroing in on the speaker with only a small amount of self-consciousness, an emotion that was quickly replaced by surprise as he surveyed the speaker. He was used to kalona and variations on the kalona mold, but the mare looking at him was unlike anything he'd yet to encounter. Her size was comparable to his kalona cousins, but her body bore...growths, for lack of a better word, that he'd never before seen. At first he was unsure if they were actually a physical part of her or an ornament, but after a brief moment more he was quite sure they were physical. Remarkable, the people one could encounter in the world!

Belatedly, he realized he'd not only been silent for an awkwardly long time, he'd also been staring. Two rudenesses for the price of one! Way to go, Guirien. Groaning inwardly, he rose to his feet, a height that put him almost exactly on an equal height with the mare. Interesting, how two such different creatures could be so similar...

"Oh, I don't know. If you're not used to it, it can be a very attractive sight. Speaking as someone that's used to being literally surrounded by color," this with a sweeping gesture to his own flamboyant appearance, "it can be quite pleasant to have things a bit more muted. As long as I'm not trying to blend in, of course. And please forgive me for my rudeness, I didn't mean to stare at you. It's just been awhile since I've seen anyone out here, and apparently I'm getting slow mentally as well as physically. I'd even forgive you if you were mortally offended."

A cheeky grin accompanied that comment, and Guirien swept a wing up through his mane in a self-deprecating gesture. Humor and cheer had always been his defense mechanisms; hopefully they'd continue to keep him out of trouble now!

Truth be told, Guirien was nowhere near as thrilled to see someone else as Azimene was, though he'd never admit it (that wasn't polite). The whole point of this little journey of his had been to get away from things, to try and sort out his own incredibly rude and disloyal thoughts and figure out a way to be at peace with himself and his the people in his life. To his way of thinking, it was a lot simpler to make peace with himself when he was surrounded by peace himself. Even though he knew that he shouldn't feel that way, it was a fact that he couldn't help but be overly buoyant and enthusiastic when he was speaking to someone else. What had begun as a family defense mechanism was now par for the course; no one, not even strangers, had a chance to see the moodier side of the stallion.

The real question was, would he ever be able to break himself of that habit. But how did one break a habit that they didn't really realize that they had?

"Well, there's not a whole lot to interrupt out here, is there? No offense as you're from these parts, it's just very calm here. Not that I'm complaining about it being calm, it's just...well, I guess that I don't really have a point. Thank you for the welcome, that can be the point!" Her enthusiasm was contagious, and that coupled with his own determined cheer meant that the stallion could match the mare smile for smile. Even her apologies were enthusiastic, amusingly enough; it was enough to even allow him to overlook the comment on his appearance! Besides, if fair was fair, he had stared at her appearance.

"Well, I can tell that I'm far from home if you aren't used to color. Most of my family is bright red, purple, magenta, and variations thereof, although there's also a decent amount of black, white, and grey. I'm probably the most colorful of the bunch, though; I'm Guirien, nice to meet you." Automatically, he stuck out one of his wings in the tradition wing-touch greeting of his herdlands...only to realize that she didn't have wings. Whoops. Oh well!

"So, what's the traditional greeting in these parts, in lieu of wing-touches?"

Even a short statement, Guirien had learned that Azimene's family was unlike his own. Hermit-like and introverted might describe a couple members of his family, but if he had to pick one adjective to describe them as a whole, it would be outgoing. His mother was certainly a case of that, along with his grandfather, grandmother, and a large portion of his uncles and aunts. There were only a couple that he hadn't met, and most of those he had considered themselves as having wide social circles. Hell, even the ones that looked atypical tended to get out and meet people; it was almost as though his very blood needed to socialize.

Perhaps that was why he'd ended up here, Guirien mused with a somewhat wry smile. He wanted solitude, but his genes felt that he needed to be around someone and subconsciously directed him to a land where he'd meet someone? Maybe meeting only one other Soquili was a blood compromise. Blood compromise in more than one way, as the mare's energy and chipperness was uncannily similar to one of his older cousins...

"Well, I guess that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I guess we're not a bad looking bunch, but I guess I just find color to be normal." After a brief examination of his wings and pelt, Guirien finally ventured forth a comment about his appearance, edging into the safe territory of commenting on his family's rather than his own. It was a defense mechanism of his to avoid dwelling on his own particular shade; he was able to laugh off his appearance for some time, but it always got to hiim eventually. He probably wasn't the first stallion to be self-conscious about his appearance, and he wouldn't be the first to try and squelch that feeling.

"You'd probably find some of my relatives more along your color-palette; a few of my cousins are purely black and white. But my grandfather is a very, very colorful stallion, and his genes had a way of making themselves seen in most of us. Like here." Smiling, he indicated the black mask that adorned his face. While it was true that there were some that lacked the mask, it remained one of the most notable identifying features of his bloodline.

Well, that, and wings. At her blank stare, he withdrew his wing, chuckling a bit at his own reflexes. Of course a wing-less Soquili wouldn't know how to do a wing-touch, but the idea of it being completely unknown was something he also should have considered. Another indication that he was far, far from home. No matter, that was the point. He would adapt! "My family has a few other types of wings, too, but I guess I've jut always known the wing-touch. That's ok, though; I am nothing if not an avid student, and will do my best to be a goo visitor." With a dramatic, sweeping wing movement, Guirien swept into a low and ground-sweeping bow. "Hellooooooooooo!"

((S'ok, I didn't take it that way, so no worries. Guirien typically doesn't look for insults XD))

It was pretty ironic, actually; in spite of the fact that the two Soquilis themselves were mostly nondescript, each of them had a few weird-looking and potentially scary relatives that, to them, were par for the course. If Guirien were aware of her thoughts regarding her father and brother, he would have had to chuckle and bring up his uncle, his cousins, and in particular, his aunt and her formidable parents. One look at his aunt Lessy, with her black body, cold eyes, and sharp fangs had been enough to strike fear into more than one heart in her time. It the rumor was true, she'd been quite a violent creature in her youth, and if it wasn't for his Uncle Antony's sheer size things might have ended very differently for what was now the happiest family unit he'd ever seen. No, judging someone as 'scary' based on looks alone was something that Guirien had long since learned not to do. Keep a safe distance until he knew it was safe, yes; judge, no.

Fussing was something that would be unusual, though. Obviously his own parents weren't fussers, and his aunt and uncle, while affectionate and responsible parents, were very much of the 'letting the kids learn things for themselves' school. He and his cousins were given a great deal of freedom growing up, coupled with lessons in self-defense and combat. Self-sufficiency was the name of the game, and Tony and Lessy had taken their duty in that respect very seriously. It was that self-sufficient streak, in fact, that had helped Guirien decide to take off; it would be some time before he was missed, and then when he was...well, he was sure being missed wouldn't be too much of an issue.

Azimene's comment about his coat did bring a faint, almost imperceptible twitch to the stallion's lips. His coat had always been a rankling point with him; besides the obvious tie to his mother, it was also an undoubtedly feminine color and he had taken more than his share of jabs regarding his girlishness', especially in conjunction with his small size. Honestly, he'd rather be any color that wasn't magenta or pink, even if it was mud-color.

But that brief twitch was the only expression he gave to that thought, it vanishing rapidly into a spirited laugh. "Well, I appreciate the compliment, although I doubt everyone would agree that it would be desirable to be so festively colored. For one thing, it's really hard to be stealthy or sneaky when you're this color, as evidenced by the fact that you spotted me so early. Not that I'm complaining, I can't say I had any plans for today." This was in response to her question of where he was heading, which he was able to answer honestly, "I really don't know where I'm heading, actually. I just..."

She was being very open, and he appreciated that, but it made him feel awkward about being less than open himself. She was a stranger; theoretically he could be completely himself with her and not worry about offending her with his 'disloyal' thoughts. But it still felt wrong to think those things, and until he was comfortable thinking something, he wasn't about to say it aloud! "I just needed to get away from where I was, I guess. Needed some space and a change of scenery, and the mountains looked like a good place for both! Since you're a local, I'd really appreciate your advice, though; how about you give me the tour? That would be even more homey and welcoming than a wing-touch, I promise."

Without realizing it, Guirien had managed to become the unofficial president of a Runaway Club. It was rather ironic, the fact that he was trying to escape the effects of neglect and Azimene was trying to escape from over attention, but otherwise the situations were eerily similar. Had he actually been aware of that fact, there was no doubt that Guirien would have found the situation amusing. As it was, Azimene's appearance was providing a pleasant diversion, and her willingness to show him around was much appreciated. This place was a pretty nice land, after all; far removed from the large forest that had always been his home and therefore less likely to be traversed by any that might know him. He didn't want to get lost; eventually, he would want to go home.

So it made sense to take advantage of the opportunity. Smiling, he gestured with a wing for Azimene to precede him. "I'm going to assume that this is one of those cases where stealth isn't necessary, but if you do see something that merits hiding, you have been officially warned that I won't blend in. So yeah, if I get eaten by a vicious predator, it'll be on your conscience, Miss Tour Guide." This was spoken with a bright, teasing grin, evidence of the fact that he doubted such a thing would happen but couldn't resist bringing up the possibility. How a person took teasing was a major tell in their personality, and he couldn't resist tossing that one out for Azimene.

"Alright, let's see this fabulous first stop! I'm sure it can't be more interesting than this," as he gestured around at the bare tussock where they had met, "But I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and am prepared to be pleasantly surprised." It was different out here, but in a mostly good way. So far he was enjoying himself; seeing more of the land with a local would be a better way to determine if he wanted to stay here for the duration, or move on.

As they walked, he studied the mare in front of him. She was very pretty; tall, as he had already observed, but still shorter than the kalona mares of his relation. Her coat was a very pale cream, but her ground-sweeping mane and were as black as his own. The horns that he had first thought to be an ornament were, he decided on closer observation, actual horns, albeit in a different arrangement than those he was used to, and the things on her back were actually biting into her flesh. Definitely a trifle atypical, compared to what he was used to...but then, so too was he, compared to her.

Completing his scrutiny, he suddenly piped up, "May I ask you a personal question, Azimene?"

"Oh, I think that a vigil would be more than adequate; a shine would be much too ostentatious for me and would waste important resources. My deceased spirit will be sure to monitor your activities in the event of my demise, so make sure you don't do anything more or you'll get an otherworldly kick." Some Soquilis might consider it bad luck to talk about death in such an irreverent fashion; there were those that considered such an action tantamount to asking for death, as it was tempting fate in the worst possible way. Guirien held no such superstitious beliefs; death was something that couldn't be escaped by anyone, so there was no reason to be afraid of what was inevitable. Besides, he'd never heard of anyone dropping dead because of a comment, and if he was going to be the first, well...that would just be ironic. A little tragic, but still humorous, just for the irony.

Of course, it would cruel to his companion if he just dropped dead all of a sudden; it was a complication that would trouble one's nearest and dearest, let alone someone who had just met you, and he'd rather not add that sort of complication to Azimene's life. He would stay alive and breathing; fate could be tempted all it wanted, but it wouldn't act.

"Ok, I'll concede that this landscape is riveting, but you underestimate my tolerance for excitement. Now, maybe if the place you're taking me to is decorated with erupting volcanoes and an ice field, maybe THEN it would be too much for me. Otherwise, I think I'm up for whatever." As long as it wasn't a trip back in the direction he'd come in, he amended internally, but as he'd never even heard of Soquili like Azimene before, he strongly doubted that such was a possibility.

And he had the opportunity to learn a bit about her, too, given her allowance of his personal question. Considerate mare, to just give permission without even asking what sort of personal question it was. A slightly devilish smile crossed his face at the possibilities that blanket permission offered, but after a mere moment he asked his original question: "Do you often catch your mane and tail or things? I've seen Soquili with long tails and manes before, but yours is the first I have ever seen that truly fits the description of ground-dragging." He found her mane and tail quite fascinating, actually; both the length and the intricacy of her mane braid were something unusual to him. In his family, he was used to curls and volume and a few simple braids, but his family had wings and extra assistance for managing those rudimentary braids. Genes contributed to the curls, but no one really had the sort of length that Azimene had, especially not he himself with his mostly lank hair.

Azimene might have intended her comments about ghosts and ghostliness to be a mere passing remark, but Guirien's fancy was oddly caught by the two simple comments, even at the expense of his previous curiosity. She had been so offhand in her remarks that she could very well have been joking, but there was something about the ghostly concept that piqued his interest. He could see her being mistaken for a ghost, if he were to be honest; her coat was SO pale and she was so slight (in spite of being so tall) that if he were to spy her through the trees at a distance, he could very well see himself being scared. Though she had such a bubbly and enthusiastic personality that he doubted that facade would hold for long. Whoever heard of a ghost with such charisma?

So he had to ask, "Another personal question cutting the line here; why do they call you the ghost of the forest? And what sort of ghost is your grandfather haunted by that would mind having company? It seems like if your ghost were to distract your grandfather's ghost, the two might be happy together and then your grandfather would be haunting-free? My grandfather is haunted himself, but it's a haunting of a different nature that I doubt he'd want to be rid of." Guirien's mouth twisted slightly at that as he held in his laughter; his own grandfather was 'haunted' by mares and had the massive family to prove it. Though who was haunting whom was a matter of great debate sometimes...

Ghosts aside, he listened with interest as she described the many hair types of her family, grinning a bit as he let his imagination run wild and draw up all sorts of outrageous hairstyles. His family had a few braids, but nowhere near as many or as elaborate as her's seemed to favor! Seemed like a lot of work to maintain, if he were being honest. And one other thing: "Your grandmother is a raccoon?" That was one for the books!