Destin led his horse through the gates of Hosenka with the cheerful air of a harmless and naive tourist, despite the clearly threatening image of a skull-masked Dhuilin with fire where its mane should be. The guards seemed rather used to it - their city was a tourism hotspot afterall, they were likely to receive stranger guests than him - but the merchants kept a decent space between their merchandise and the Dhuilin. A wise choice, considering how flammable everything seemed to be. Paper lanterns, wooden masks, charms made of fabric, they were all great tchotchkes, but easily burnt to a crisp.
The tourists, though, had mixed reactions. Many avoided the two of them like the merchants, others ignored them, a select few gave him looks of disgust that simply made their faces ugly distortions of otherwise underwhelmingly plain looks. More than the ugly passerby were the tourists who approached with glee in their eyes. Bold parents with curious but uneasy toddlers in their arms, mages that eagerly awaited the day they too could possess such a noble creature, and most commonly, gaggles of teenagers eager to take a photograph with the novelty. No self-respecting Dhuilin would allow a rider it didn't approve of, but with Destin standing by to ensure the mare wouldn't decide the children were food after all they could take their selfies and group photos and move on.
"It seems strange, Delilah, I can hardly remember being so small."
The Dhuilin pulled at his hair. It wasn't quite painful, but it was hard to tell if Delilah was admonishing him or trying to be reassuring. It was a gesture he was getting used to after so many years of her being so uncaring and harsh towards his older brother. Almost like the heartless bastard was so unbearable even his mount thought he was an ass.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't like that name either? I've tried so many."
Delilah tossed her head with what Destin took to be acquiescence. He gave her nose a gentle pat.
"I will not call you Storm Bearing Steed of Thundering Hooves. I will not. God my brother deserved that stake in his heart. I like Delilah better. It's better than Bluebell, at least. You can't be mad at me for that one, right?"
The horse simply stared, waiting for instructions. Destin took a moment, staring into Delilah's calm green eyes, to wonder if he was really so starved for attention - so hungry for even a modicum of recognition - that he was willing to empathize with a horse. He hoped not. It would really suck if he was desperate enough to talk to walls by the time he found Jikan.
"Let's find a place to stay, I suppose. The bars always have good information."
Or perhaps a brothel. He could clearly use the company. Destin sighed as he carefully led Delilah through the streets of wooden buildings to a stable close enough to open air that she couldn't accidentally burn down the city. He wasn't desperate enough to pay a woman to sleep with him. Even if he wasn't likely to find a new friend at the bottom of a glass, getting involved in the barely-legal would jeopardize his quest. Another time, perhaps, when he had the emotional investment to hold a conversation with someone that wasn't a horse.
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