it weren't us who changed.

Ezra turned slowly, letting his gaze sweep in a slow circle across the grassy plains that surrounded him. The sights, sounds and scents were not unfamiliar to him--he'd grown up in places like these where the sea of green seemed to go on for miles and mountains lined the horizon. Still, he did not truly know this place. He didn't completely remember how he'd even gotten here. He'd been traveling on his own for months, that much was true. But he didn't recall falling asleep here, so how had he woken up here?

The Blackwater got slowly to his paws, giving each limb a stretch before giving his pelt a good shake. Nothing ached in a way that suggested foul play. The only ailment he seemed to be suffering was a desperate thirst, and so he set off across the plains to find a way to sate it.

The sound of trickling water didn't take long to settle into his ears, so soon enough, he was leaning down a short ridge to lap up the gently running waters of a creek. Ezra kept his ears trained on his surroundings, still wary given the situation. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The water was cool and refreshing, the chirp of grasshoppers and buzz of dragonflies seemingly normal. When the sound of hoofbeats took his attention, he lifted his head to peer off into the distance where a herd of horses was charging across the plains.

Ezra Blackwater stepped back up onto flat land and stood watching them, thinking.
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he probably won't stick around long but ((eyes))

---

For miles, he had traveled. Alone for many of them, and for days at a time, he went where the road suggested--following rivers, traversing plains. Wherever, onto the next. Only occasionally stalling when he found somewhere without a lot of snow covering the grass for obvious reasons, but that was obligated by nature itself. Still, as the chill of wintertime wore on, that pressed him forward more than anything: towards greener things.

In doing so, he had taken up a habit of never staying anywhere halfway fruitful for long. None of it was ever just right. Next to that, Daydream was too nosy, too prone to letting trouble find him along the way too. Inevitably older stallions and their old blue hens found out if he lurked close to their lots for too long, then things got messy, so on and so forth. It wasn't always bad, but it wasn't finding him anywhere to want to defend for his own. Nothing was quite worth that yet.

Still new to the present scene, he had a lot of scoping it out to do yet and wanted to make the best of his situation. At least he already knew there was a herd running nearby. That was the most attractive feature of the lands so far. Now, he nearly had them in his sights as he tracked up this small waterway, measuring his distance carefully. Far enough not to attract attention, but close enough to sniff for mares to possibly entice.

That purposeful little course let him spot the canine getting a drink, and moving away from the edge as Daydream slowly trotted closer. Dissatisfied by this, his nostrils flared and he arced his neck, curious, but distrustful of the other problem to keep a watchful distance from. He snorted at the dog just to tell him that the young stallion fully intended to pass by not far from him, and that he was watching his every move keenly in turn. He wasn't afraid of their big long mouths, though nothing in him trusted this would be the last one he saw.
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Ezra watched the horses running for a while before he was distracted by another, similar, but nearer sound. He turned his head to spy another horse making its way across the plains, this one on its own. He wondered if it belonged with the herd and had fallen behind. He watched the way it moved and decided this wasn't the case. There was no trace of hurt in its steady gait, so no reason for it to have been separated except perhaps by choice. Ezra didn't pretend to know. He had long respected these creatures, but they existed separate from his kind. Their ways and their secrets belonged to them.

He kept his eyes on the stallion as it came closer, his posture lacking suggestion of any threat. Ezra did not hunt wild mustang. He knew better than that, as all of those in the West did. Which isn't to say he had never consumed one before--the packs had been lucky from time to time to find one dead by some other predator's teeth or of natural causes. They didn't hesitate then, for the wolves wasted nothing. But as far as taking the life of a mustang himself, Ezra had no interest. A low swish of his tail and slight nod to the creature was all he gave to reassure the beast that it was in no danger from him.
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On first glance, it seemed he had come upon one with reason in his bones. He did not flee, or taunt. Instead, very little despite the horse--which, good! The canid looked him back over, to which Daydream tilted his nose down, and flagged his tail more--just to emphasize himself, even as his gait slowed to an airy walk. Truthfully, he was still riding the high of knowing a new herd to harass ran in these areas.

“Wolf,” he crooned, leaning into a half pause where he could see him very well. Naturally, he maintained some distance but this was closer than he had come in some time. There was no telling if the dog would even humor him any, or be able to hear him properly. “Alone?” he asked, eyes big and round to the predator. Daydream could only smell the one still, which surprised him some. With another small snort, he switched his tail, and took a step, making it clear that he was not going to idle long--but he was a little nosy, if given the chance.
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Ezra had expected the beast to just continue on its way. That was how his encounters with such creatures usually went--they would impart their non-verbal motions of respect and keep right on going. This one, however, paused and made contact.

Curious, Ezra gave him another once over, letting this turn of events roll around in his mind for a moment before answering. "Stallion," he drawled, a small smile twitching across his lips. "I'm alone as you are, it would appear," he replied, wondering how well it would understand him, "I ain't from these parts. You?" If it was going to speak to him, he might as well try to garner some information, if there was any to be gathered.
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The voice returned with a curious weight to it, at least to his ears. He still flared his nostrils, sampling the odd scents to match a sight that pricked his instinctive prey-animal mind. But, he counterbalanced it in self-assurance, given no reason to think otherwise yet even despite knowing how odd a situation this could be. One wrong move could upend everything.

Nevertheless, truly, the wolf was not wrong. Seems they were both alone then and he laughed lowly. “For now.” he suggested, for he was hopeful. His solitude may not need to last much longer if he got any part of his way soon, but indeed, his present was largely absent of fellow horsekind lately. “No.. I have traveled far to find these curious lands,” he breathed, and punctuated with a shake of his mane. Long ago, Daydream had lost track of the miles exactly. His memories of any true before were alarmingly unclear sometimes, but of no consequence now. “What brings you?” he asked back, staring hard at the wolf, wondering what his little dog heart might crave.

With or without an answer, shortly after, the gray stallion would be on his way again--quite content to keep his meeting brief, the two of them simply passing by. He was not used to interacting with the local wolves for any length of time unless he wanted trouble. Now was not the time to change that.
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