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"Score one for Corsant, whose strength and awesome might grow daily!"

Corsant was in an excellent mood, as his cheerful voice and victorious strut could evidence to anyone within earshot or eyesight of the teen. It was another gorgeous day in the forest, he didn't have anything that he had to be doing, AND he'd just won a fight with his older cousin, Guirien, which was the cause of his current good mood. If asked, he wouldn't be able to tell what the source of the conflict had been; but while he adored his cousin, it just seemed like the two had a knack for fighting and had been doing it on a near-daily basis, ever since Guirien had come to first visit, then join their little family. Compared to Corsant's father, Guirien was a tiny fellow, being a wind to begin with and a small wind at that, but size-wise he was an adequate sparring partner for the adolescent Corsant, who was still growing into his full size.

Today's fight had ended with one of Corsant's rare victories; he'd managed to hook Guirien with one of his wings, flip, and pin him in one of their shortest fights yet. It had been a surprise to both, and had elevated Corsant's mood so high that he had to take off and share the news with Mariasha.

Since their first meeting, Mari had come to be Corsant's best non-family friend; while a lot more serious and snarky than he was, she had fun ideas, was smart, and was great to play with. She had never been as thrilled with his fighting stories as he had (or thrilled at all, for that matter), but he still loved to tell her about his increased skill in that arena. Plus today, he barely had any injuries to show; one black eye, barely discernible behind his already dark coat, and a minor laceration from Guirien's hoof on his upper right foreleg. Guirien usually had more to deal with, given Cor's horns and wing spikes, and on rare occasions his fangs; but those injuries were usually at a minimum, as they tried to keep active a no biting rule.

Right now Corsant was trotting through the trees, heading towards the usual region of the forest where he met up with Mari. Hopefully she'd be around today, it would be a bummer to have to tell the story later!

Corsant wasn't so completely dense that he missed his friend's neutrality towards his fighting glory. Indeed, Mari's passivity towards that sport ordered on the disinterest, not just mere neutrality; some days she seemed to just go through the motions of listening, while on other days she took a more active role in the conversation. Corsant tried to be respectful: On the days that she didn't seem interested, he would clam up after telling her the latest fighting results and not dwell any more on an issue that she didn't care for.

Still, he hadn't yet developed enough of an understanding to know that fighting was simply not a subject she had interest in at all; he chalked it up to the different days, and what she herself was actually doing at the time. Besides, she was no fighter herself, so it made sense that she wouldn't want to spend all of the time when they were together talking about something that she didn't participate in!

Today, he meant to be the best and most considerate friend, as always; however, riding high on the wings of his victory meant it would be a good day for dramatic conversation! And fortunately for him, she was in the area. As he approached the river, he caught her familiar smell, then looked around for the sight of her autumn leave coloration. "Maaaaaaaaaa-ri!" He called out her name in a bright, cheery tone before he'd even seen her, but when he did he was quick to close the distance, making his way over to her in almost a skip. "Mari, I TOTALLY trashed Guirien today! He tried to sneak pounce me, but I was actually watching, and I went down like this, and he went all off balance over my shoulder like this, and I was able to spin and pin him, and it was AWESOME!" As he spoke, he had executed a one-man rendition of the fight, ending with him flopping down beside her with a grin. "Completely awesome!"

So much for 'good afternoon'!

It would take a personality a great deal denser than Corsant's to miss the meaning behind Mariasha's speech: any of Mariasha's speech. The pointed disregard for the meat of his message, the overly scrupulous adherence to the proper greeting form...her emphasis on the idea of him taking a bath...no, it was all as clear and direct a message as if she'd spelled out what she was meaning literally. Every meaning was clear, every hint understood, and he responded to the whole with a grin and a laugh.

It would be easy to be offended. After all, he'd been in a cheerful mood, obviously overflowing with excitement over the morning's events, and she'd dismissed his information and enthusiasm without so much as an acknowledgement. But at the same time, he knew full-well that she was less keen on such matters than he was and that, while she did her best to try and show interest from time to time, fighting was not her thing. And today, she obviously felt less interest in the subject than even usual! Well, he could respect that, and not even be upset!

Indeed, he returned her greetings with good cheer and humor. "Ok, point taken; pleasantries first, stories later. Still, it WAS a major adrenaline boost, I've got to say!" But that was the last he'd say on the subject, turning instead to the more general charms of a new day and new meeting. "You know, I have to say that I've heard of these things that they call baths. I've also heard a rumor that they can scour the skin right off a body and make the limbs fall off; sounds awfully dangerous to me. Maybe I'd better watch you for a while and make sure you don't suffer any untoward effects before I try it myself."

He was grinning as he spoke; his tendency to get dirty hadn't altered any since he was a child, and even now as a maturing teen he just couldn't win the battle with grime. Mari was pretty tolerant about a lot of things, but for some reason she had never seemed that enamored with blood and body odor. Go figure!

Corsant's father Antony would be the first to dispute that a kalona heritage would desensitize one to each blood or body odors. While hardly a persnickety stallion, Antony was a firm believer in the importance of cleanliness and would be the first to whap his son on the head and accuse of him of carelessness and general laziness. And Corsant himself would have to grin and accept that accusation as the truth; the facts of the matter were that he just couldn't seem to remember to bathe, or when he did remember he didn't have time. As he stood, there was nothing wrong with a little dirt, blood, grass stain, or sweat; they were the signs of an active lifestyle and general good health and he honestly didn't see what the big deal was.

Still, he tried to be accommodating; when he remembered that he was going to be seeing Mari or doing something other than tussling about, he would try to at least dunk himself in a pond. It was just that it was so easy to forget things!

Fortunately, if he was accommodating in intent, Mari was accommodating in deed and didn't storm off on him when he turned up fresh from a fight, like, oh....today. Though the two of them could be quite different in pursuits and interests, they had clicked at the time of their first meeting and Corsant allowed her greater liberties and teasing than anyone else, up to and including his parents. So he merely grinned at her remark on perversity, batting his lashes in what was meant to be an innocent and endearing fashion. "What, little old me?" Then he laughed, shaking his head at what he honestly thought was a bizarre thing. "Though I don't see where the forbidden nature of watching someone scrub comes from; it's not like I can't stare at your body any time we're around if the mood takes me, and the water would actually serve to impede it! We are a strange race when it comes to customs, you have to admit."

He had already risen to his feet as he was speaking, flicking some larger bits of grass off of himself as he did so. He could take a hint most of the time, and this was no hint; he merely wiggled his wings and tail at Mari to show off their muddy and blood splattered glory once before he went down the bank and into the water, wading out into the middle where it was nice and deep. "But if you're going to help, you'd better not try to rip out my mane again. I'm attached to it in more ways than one, and I really don't think my scalp can take another round of abuse like last time!"

He was teasing, of course; 'last time', a wayward branch that had been floating down the river got tangled in his hair and it had been more than a little challenging for him to keep a straight face as Mari had worked the stick out. By the end, it felt as though his entire scalp was on fire, and the only amazement was that he'd managed to keep his hair!

"Guirien's better at keeping clean than I am, and he's little, so he has smaller sweat glands. Or something." Translation: he himself was the best when it came to being filthy!

"Well, that's hardly a comparison when it comes to soreness, Mari; the arse is meant to take abuse, after all; that's why it has a bit more given many other body parts. Now, the head had minimal give and practically no cushioning, meaning that the smallest of injuries to that area can linger and cause extreme agony." Corsant was embellishing a bit towards the end of the statement; while it was true that head injuries could be quite painful and leave him a bit tender for days afterward, it was equally true that the closest thing to agony he'd ever felt was related to injury nowhere near his head. But that had been an accident, and it was one of very, VERY few stories relating to fighting he was consciously keeping from his friend. Even a tactless wonder like Corsant knew that some things were just better left unsaid!

Still, he wasn't about to challenge Mari TOO much; she might be small and not much of a fighter, but her hooves were still pointy and she was hard to dodge. That, and the fact that he enjoyed her company far too much to run the risk of driving her off!

Feeling that his point had been suitably carried and totally ignorant of the fact that Mari's thoughts were making sport of his potential future pain, he allowed the subject to drop for a moment as he ducked under the surface of the water, shaking his head and tail against the current. It was a fun exercise, actually; not only did it get a lot of scrubbing action (or what passed for scrubbing action) against his mane and tail, it gave him a chance to work his legs by keeping his footing while facing into the current. With Mari's earlier pointed remark about body odors prodding his conscience, he spent longer than usual under the water, rubbing at his flanks and neck with his wings.

"Ah!" With a big breath, he burst back up to the surface with his mane clinging to his head like a bedraggled rodent. "Well? Do my efforts meet with your approval?" He wasn't done, of course; he needed a more thorough scrub and rinse before he would cease to smell and before the dried blood was gone, but it was a start!

"I'd say 'yes Mother', if it wasn't for the fact my mother is much more tolerant than you are when it comes to this sort of thing." Still, Corsant very obediently remained neck deep in the water, allowing the current to run over and around him. His eye he'd had to put cold wet leave on later, but the rest of him he could allow to soak. And he's attempt to do so with good grace, even though 20 minutes was a very long time to be standing in one place doing nothing! "For the record, I expect it to be noted how patiently I'm putting up with this excessively long bath." A sad observation, given that he'd been in the water for less than 5 minutes, but few creatures have the impatience of the young!

At least Mariasha was here to keep him company. Fanning out his wings to lie flat on the water, he pulled up his legs and allowed himself to bob in the water like a cork as he watched her hunt for a branch. "Scrub brush, or hair brush? And you know, I don't think you've really considered the advantages of not brushing my hair at all. If we allowed it to get hopefully tangled beyond belief, I might finally be able to convince my family to let me cut it." His long hair had always been a sore spot for Corsant, and he kept it long with mostly ill-grace. Long hair snagged on things, got in his eyes, could be be pulled, and, as his last bath had shown, did NOT like brushing.

And here he was, musing about hair, while taking a bath, on a gorgeous summer day. "You'd think I was my sister, with all this emphasis on appearance. Are you trying to make me find my inner mare, Mari? Or worse, my outer one?" He grinned at the mare on the shore, commenting, "If so, you're doomed to disappointment."

Corsant and Mariasha would always have to agree to disagree when it came to his hair. What he saw as a nuisance, she saw as something to prize. What he would have sacrificed in a heartbeat, she seemed to think was something to cherish. This was something that had long confused Corsant. While he knew that there were many Soquili who prized long hair for its aesthetic qualities, he had never been one of them. And he doubted that Mari was that concerned about his appearance, other than it being clean and blood-free. They were buddies, after all!

He'd once asked his oldest sister about why Mari might be on the side of his hair being long. Lessia had never given any care to her own appearance, but she sported hair even longer than Corsant's in long red tails. She had shrugged, not really having much insight, but offered one observation. "Doesn't Mariasha have really short hair herself?"

Corsant had mulled over this a great deal. It was true that his friend wore her mane short, very short. He rather like it that way, as it seemed simple and efficient to care for. That, and it suited Mari's small frame. Small Soquili with long manes seemed like they were easily swallowed up by their hair. But if she kept her hair so short, then why did she want his long? Why did it matter? A sensible course of action would be to just ask her, but he wanted to figure this out on his own.

Of course, given Corsant's lack of information and stubbornness to ask for clarification, he was nowhere near hitting on the correct answer. It never would have occurred to him that Mariasha's hair was short not by design, but through having no other option.

All he knew is, he would trade places in a minute. Both in terms of hair, and in terms of him being in a bath and her not. Given the choice, he'd much rather be the one scrambling on the shore! She might act aggrieved, but he suspected she was enjoying herself. Who wouldn't enjoy making their friends squirm a bit?

So he merely snorted at her comments. "Like I would want to be anywhere near a mare who was hung up on something as silly as looks. Maybe I want a girl who likes hobos. I happen to think I'd make a much better hobo than...whatever you call a guy who's all fussy about his appearance." Other than "Grandpa Ariston", of course! "And don't you tell me you don't think a hobo wouldn't be more fun!" This, with a grin and a wink in her direction.

That was Mari, Corsant reflected with a grin. When they were younger, he'd always talked a mile a minute and only really caught things that Mariasha said. As they'd spent more time together (and Corsant had learned a bit more about patience and proper conversational manners), he had learned to slow himself down and pay more attention to her. That had, in turn, lead him to start paying attention as much to what she wasn't saying as what she was. Sure, he still missed things; he wouldn't be young, male, and Corsant if he didn't. But when it came to topics in his wheelhouse, he was much more attentive.

For example, he'd just asked her a question, and she'd given an answer that completely sidestepped the issue! He grinned, accepting that she might just not be willing to admit that hobos would be more fun than neat freaks. Less comfortable, maybe, but a lot more fun!

Though she did have a point, he had to admit. Bugs were pretty annoying, and their bites could be painful. "Yeah, well, I look after myself most of the time." This was delivered in an almost petulant tone as he continued to linger in the water, obediently working on the 20 minutes he'd been told. "Well enough for me, anyway." Then again, he wasn't too picky!

He craned his head around to follow Mariasha as she moseyed upstream, calling after her, "Has it been 20 minutes yet?"