Coming to terms with his own death wasn't something he could just… do.
So, Arin decided he'd ignore that part for now.
Taking a few deep breaths, he swiftly cleared his mind. Then, taking another moment to marvel at his own mental strength, he decided to focus his attention on the more pressing issues at hand. To begin with –
'Hey! Stop it!' Arin ducked his head while yelling. 'I'll go bald if you keep eating my hair!'
He rolled out of reach of the horse's mouth before jumping to his feet. The horse followed his movements with large, unblinking eyes. Its innocent expression would have been far more convincing if not for the few strands of brown hair still hanging from its lips.
Brown hair?
Arin reached up to tug at his hair. What he felt wasn't the silky black hair he'd had all his life, but handfuls of soft, curly hair, just long enough for him to pull to one side and see strands that were the color of milk tea. On that note, the hand holding the hair had slightly bruised knuckles, and was also entirely unfamiliar to him…
Before he could brood over it, Arin noticed the horse moving closer once again, eyeing the hair in his hands. Quickly letting go and taking a few steps back to maintain their distance, he sighed.
'You can't have it,' Arin paused, lowering his voice to a whisper, 'but it isn't mine either…'
'Of course it isn't mine,' he continued, louder now. 'I know I… my body was crushed. I felt it. So I guess my… soul?... ended up entering some other guy's body. Did I kick him out?' Arin looked around, almost like he hoped someone would appear to either confirm or deny his speculations. Perhaps some futuristic apparition, or maybe a disembodied voice from the heavens. Something. Anything?
…
Nothing.
In his peripheral vision, Arin suddenly noticed that the gray horse had gone very still, looking straight at him. Then again, it could've been looking at anything else, and he wouldn't have been able to tell for certain. Arin didn't know enough about horses to be sure of how those eyes worked.
Still, something told him that he was being observed, scrutinized even, by something dangerous. In all of his perfectly ordinary life, never before had he felt like this. Like… prey, frozen before a hunter's gaze.
He knew horses didn't eat people, and yet… he felt fear like he'd never felt before. An impending sense of doom curled up his spine and made his scalp tingle.
Shrinking back slightly, he started mumbling whatever came to mind, 'B-bad horse. You really can't eat this hair. Even though it isn't mine, the person it belongs to would be sad if he goes bald before his time. And I'm sure grass tastes better anyway… probably. If you're hungry, just have some of that, ok?'
Arin paused as a gust of wind blew past, ruffling the horse's mane and making his own clothes billow around him. It was only then that he noticed that he, too, was dressed in a cloak similar to the one he'd been mentally roasting that angry boy for wearing. Even so, he didn't dare to look away from the horse.
All of a sudden, the horse sighed, relaxing its muscles. It looked to one side contemplatively before turning to face him again. Arin felt the tension dissipate as quickly as it had built up, and relaxed his own shoulders in response.
The horse walked up to him and nudged the side of his head with its nose. There was no sense of hostility anymore. However, when Arin didn't respond, the horse nudged him again, with a little more urgency, before walking up to the spot where that strange boy had disappeared. It lightly kicked at the ground, nickering impatiently.
It was trying to… communicate something to him.
'Is there something about that weirdo? What is it? He's gone now, he can't hurt you,' Arin said comfortingly. Now that he wasn't afraid anymore, his tone of voice was becoming increasingly similar to the one he had once used with his childhood pet dog, long ago.
In response, the horse looked at him like he was an idiot.
'What? He called me garbage, but you clearly don't care about that… Is it because he said something about stewing you – no? Then what? He just kept repeating we should wait… Oh.' Arin's eyes widened.
'He meant he's going to come back right now!?'
Arin had just assumed that the boy had been hurling empty threats, especially after seeing the damage the original owner of the body he currently occupied had done to his face. Looking at the horse's impatience, however, he realized that his assumption may have been terribly wrong. And if the boy was indeed going to return…
Having taken a beating from the original owner, he would most certainly be bringing along reinforcements. With a growing sense of urgency, Arin realized that they might show up as suddenly as the boy had disappeared. Moreover, he had no way of knowing what other tricks they might have up their sleeves.
In a strange world and in a stranger's body, the last thing Arin wanted was to be involved in an altercation he didn't understand and wouldn't be able to defend himself against.
'We need to get out of here. Now.'
The horse huffed and looked at him expectantly.
'Do you want me to ride you?' Arin walked to its side and kicked up a leg experimentally. He could tell that he was a bit taller now than he'd been in his own body, but ultimately, he had no knowledge of horse-riding. 'Could you, uh… bend down a little?'
The horse didn't even look annoyed anymore. Sparing him the briefest, most pitying glance, it lowered itself just enough to let him climb onto its back.
'Alright, we shouldn't be wasting any more time. Let's go… home?'
The horse clearly agreed. Arin felt its body tremble for a second before large, feathered, silvery wings, wings that had most definitely not been there seconds ago, unfurled from its sides. And before he could fully register what had happened, they were in the sky.
'What the – what the fu -!' Arin found his yells cut off by the wind battering against his face. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the horse's mane like his life depended on it.
Well, his life did depend on it.
However, it was very fortunate that the horse… Pegasus? Celestial creature? …whatever it was, was incredibly fast. Soaring high above the treetops, they had already left the clearing they'd just been in far behind them in mere moments.
And Arin could've sworn he heard the clamoring of multiple voices and a faint roar of anger coming from that direction, before the sounds were carried off by the wind.
They'd just barely made it.