Chapter 53: Jusin and Grielsa leaving
Alex stepped forward, pouring the grain into a trough.
The horses nickered softly, their warm breath brushing his hands as they ate, their horns casting faint shadows.
He marveled at their elegance, familiar, yet touched by something otherworldly.
Jusin leaned against the fence, watching them. "There’s a report—old tales, mind you, that there were once unicorns," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Single horn, pure white, the whole bit. But they’ve been lost to us, died out or wandered off, no one’s sure."
He scratched his beard, eyes distant for a moment, then shrugged. "These two-horns are what we’ve got left. Sturdy beasts, though."
Alex nodded, running a hand along one horse’s flank, feeling the subtle difference in its coarse hair, so close to a human horse, yet not.
Twin horns arched elegantly from their brows, spiraling upward like pale branches carved from moonstone, catching the late afternoon sunlight in glints and glimmers.
They munched peacefully on the grain Alex had poured into the troughs, their jaws working in a slow, rhythmic motion, eyes half-lidded with contentment.
One of them flicked an ear in his direction as he stepped closer, snuffling at his sleeve as if checking for more food.
Jusin was mid-sentence, one hand raised in a broad, animated gesture toward a low wooden enclosure where a cluster of twinlights darted about like flickering embers come to life.
The creatures, fox-like in build but far too elegant for the term, moved with a restless grace, their sleek russet fur shimmering faintly under the sunlight.