Upon the song of the Nymph, as he sung oh so purely, the creatures of the forest gathered in the patches of sunlight along the babbling brook to listen with silent wonder.
And so did the horse, a king’s stallion proud and tall, galloping through bushes and thicket to venture towards what it could be to make such beautiful sounds. It slowed to a halt at the water’s side, dipping its shiny hooves into the water to nicker a greeting at the man dabbling his feet into the cool liquid. The horse shook its manes, arching its neck to press its trembling nostrils against the golden strands of hair.
“You are sweet,” the nymph spoke, reaching out a hand and running the fingers beneath the horse’s chin, “Where may your rider be?”
As if on cue, the panting broke through the melody of the forest, branches snapping beneath boots and leaves pushed away. A man appeared from the thicket, turning his handsome face left and right and left again. Soon, the eyes, their color like ice through all the green, settling upon the young man by the water.
“Heavens,” the man whispered, as soon as their eyes did cross. He stepped forward, one hand out as if reaching for something he was not quite sure was there.
Steve tilted his head to the side a little, regarding the other with curiosity. He did not get many humans in this forest, especially not this far in. It was not he feared those from the kingdom, he merely often found them to be obnoxious and rude. This man, in his traveler’s clothing and his strong stallion, was a man of status, as much was clear.
Perhaps one of royalty, but he could not be sure.
Though he was still not certain what exactly James was (’King’ was not a term or role he had ever known himself, living in the forest mostly on his own), he did figured out soon that laying himself into the water-filled tub with his clothes still on was a thing considered strange by the humans of the castle.
Not to mention the apparently ‘wrong’ way he handled most of the utensils and objects that lay scattered around on shelves and in cupboards, some of which he was not supposed to touch, but who even kept track?
In his defense, a fork did look like it would function perfectly as a hairbrush.
Or: James is a King who decided to venture deeper into the forest. At one point, his horse acts oddly, and runs off. James sets the chase, only to stumble upon what must be the fairest creature he has ever laid eyes upon. The poor thing is covered in dirt, looking as if he had wandered through the forest for far too long, and James does not hesitate a moment to take the young man back to the castle to have him cleaned and cared for.
Steve is a forest nymph singing quietly to himself until a knight’s stallion interrupts him. A man soon follows, one who worries too much about the healthy layer of dirt on his clothes, and the fact Steve lives in the forest. Intrigued by the stranger, Steve comes with him to the castle, and he is amazed by the new world of customs and objects awaiting him.