“Still a horse, of course. Just a special sort of breed.”
There were rumors that the breeds birth started with dragon blood being added to the line, but they’d been around just as long as their ancient riders, so no one knew for certain if it was true, or if the breed had been handmade just for Dullahans. Either way, Somhairle is plenty happy to let Spook loom over him, and reward her with pets simply for existing. Now, it was time to see how the rest of this meeting was going to go.
“Oh, Silly me, I believe introductions may be in order. This is Spook-” She whinnies, and snorts, blowing ash and cinder from her nostrils. An odd enough ‘introduction’ as is, but it was about to get much odder, as the dullahan bumped his own head down from his neck, catching it by the hair and bringing it out like one would a hat as he swooped into a stage bow, letting it swing where it hung by his hair..
“And I am Somhairle. Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Well, that in and out of itself had nosedived right past bizarre and into the unthinkable land of questionable sanity. Horses, special breed or not, certainly didn’t snort burned remains from their noses. They weren’t furnaces. All the same, he nods faintly at the first introduction... Only to have his earlier visual all at once make sense.
Watching someones head tumble from their shoulders and roll into an open hand only to dangle precariously from it’s hair... It was almost like a sight from a morbid fantasy book, where the onlooker became horribly afraid yet somehow felt compelled to remain--Solely for storybook purposes, of course. Any normal person would have long fled at the sight.
Except, of course, Abell. His legs are far too cold now, and despite being much more awake than he had been in the last while since they’d begun talking, he doesn’t feel particularly threatened. Somewhat grotesque party tricks aside... This, Somhairle didn’t seem like he was going to hurt him. More like a cheeky young adult... Who just happened to be riding a giant horse that breathed out ash and could remove his head from his shoulders.
“... I feel I should be screaming or something by this point, if this were one of those cheap thriller films. Sorry if that was your intent.”
Arms slip closer around himself at another brisk chill, and he exhales with a sigh and offers a faint smile at the pair. By all rights, he should be terrified. And he probably is, somewhere under exhaustion and the crushing depressive feeling that left him sitting in the park this late in the first place.
“Ah, where are my manners. My name is Abell. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Somhairle.”
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