she glided smoothly into the shallows, her voice a wordless inquiry, though not quite a beckon. she was careful, and yet he saw curiosity in the curve of her gait and the proud arch of her gilded neck. and so he approached, carefully, halting only when the water threatened to lap with its cold tongue against the earthen fur of his breast. hello, he called softly, ears sweeping forward to await her response.
perhaps she in her youth would take pity upon his wandering soul, and tell him from whence he must travel to return home. but he stood silent now, wanting nothing more past the pleasure of her company, and perhaps to hear her voice again, lifted in words this time.
there had been many in his past who deemed his infatuation with the female form to be unnatural, for it did not stem from a demand or desire to seed vast fields with the fruit of his loins. for taltos, it was borne out of a spiritual need, an abiding and incomprehensible knowledge that one and one must come together to make two, that two was the sacred number that delineated the meeting of the souls.