Confidences in the Barn

Although he moves with the ungulate grace which is too often compared to deer, unlike a deer he usually does not make a sound, this slender young man with a waterfall of perfectly white hair-- not blond, but white and fine as Queen Anne's lace-- which has been rather carelessly confined with a simple tie at the nape of his neck. His eyes at first appear to be dark rather than the blue that is their shade, as they are so saturated with color that they absorb rather than reflect, like the evening sky. The planes of his perfectly symmetrical face reflect a beauty so delicate and finely drawn as to be almost inhuman, an impression furthered by the translucent pallor of his skin. Yet the lovely lines of his collarbones and his wrists showing delicately through that transparency paradoxically reinforce his humanity by suggesting his fragility.
He is currently wearing plain but sturdy-looking brown leather boots that reach halfway up to his knees, soft gray pants of some closely-woven material, and a smoky-blue shirt of very sheer linen with wide gathered sleeves and an open collar. Over this is a knee-length, dark green, leather vest, soft and scarred with use, carelessly only halfway laced up the front.
At rest, he sits quite still, not even fidgeting with his long and capable hands. His face tends to assume a clear, icy expression which is a first cousin to sorrow.

New Moon Farm, Front Circle(#152RJ)
You are standing underneath the spreading branches of an oak tree which is probably at least two hundred years old. Around the tree are several half-earthed houses, with stone and glass fronts and roofs of green turf. Beside front doors, roses, morning-glories, wisteria, and grapevines are all planted, and more plants can be seen through the wide front windows of each cottage. Dogs sleep peacefully in the shade or bounce up to inspect any arrivals, and cats stalk gracefully by on their own business. Off in the distance, you can see the edges of planted fields, a duckpond, and fenced grazing land. (there are views here)
Obvious exits:
Guest House Nearest Barn Track to Farm Road

Simon steps out of one of the houses, stretching carefully. "Yeah, Da, I'll get some supper, and I won't go too far. I promise." He adds "Honest!" in an undertone as he heads towards the main house.

As Simon walks towards the main house, Miki emerges from underneath the spreading shadow of the oak tree and walks quickly over the grass to meet him.

"Miki! Hi!" The dark boy's tone is clearly pleased, though he keeps his voice down far enough not to be audible to his parents in their house.

Miki smiles. "Hey," he says, his voice no louder than Simon's. "Do you have a little time to talk?"

Simon hesitates. "Um, I guess. D'you mind if I grab some food, first? I could get you some, too..."

Miki shakes his head. "No, go ahead. I, um, I am fine, I uh, will be eating later. Where should I wait for you?"

Simon rubs his nose with the back of one hand. "Um... How about that barn? I'll be right there..."

Miki nods, gives Simon the ghost of a smile, and runs off to the barn, his feet nearly silent in the long grass.

You walk along a cart track which circles around the guest house, and walk into the nearest barn through the big double doors.
Near Barn, New Moon Farm
The old concrete floor of the barn is crumbling a little now, attesting to the great age of this old building. It is a big round room surmounted with a hayloft, which is presently empty but still perfumes the dusk of the barn with the scent of sunny grass. In one corner, pieces of an old cart and broken hoes, scythes, and other farm tools await mending. There are a few stalls in the back, built sturdily of heavy timbers, but for the most part it is open space. A stick horse leaning in one corner, and a child's pull-wagon mutely testify to the present uses to which this barn is usually put.
Obvious exits:
Barn Doors

Simon enters the hay-smelling gloom of the barn through the big double doors.
Simon has arrived.

The barn is apparently empty. After a moment, there is a rustling up in the hayloft, and Miki says, in a low voice, "Hey, up here."

Simon scrambles up the ladder to the loft, carrying a large sandwich. "Hi," he says quietly. "This'll be much nicer in a week or so, when the hay's in. What's up?"

Miki is sitting with his back against one of the walls of the barn, his hair the only thing that marks him out in the gloom. He turns to watch Simon, exhaling a deep breath. "Something really weird happened to me yesterday."

Simon settles down next to Miklos, a black shadow in the dimness. "Weirder than ghosts and shifters and things?" his tone is lightly teasing, cut off by the sound of chewing.

A nod, a faint breath of a laugh. "Yes, it was. Look... do you know much about the mountain? You know, Katahdin?" He doesn't pronounce the name quite correctly; his accent, which is sometimes nearly unnoticable, is very clear on that word.

Simon swallows his mouthful. "Katahdin? Sure. I've even been hiking there a few times, with Da." He continues eating. Apparently there wasn't really all that much need for his parents to worry about him eating.

"Are there... strange things up there?" asks Miki, his voice a little unsure. "I mean, that you have heard of?"

Simon thinks, chewing quietly. "Um, sort of, I guess. I mean, some of my friends did their rituals up there, and had really odd dreams."

Miki shakes his head. "I... it was no dream!" he says with great conviction. "I was not asleep!"

Simon's teeth flash white in the darkness. "I believe you!"

Miki takes another breath. "I do not know whether you are going to believe me after I tell you. Simon, I saw a... this is going to sound very foolish." He sighs. "A unicorn. On the mountain."

Simon blinks. For a long moment, there's only the sound of chewing. "A unicorn? White, glowing horn, goat-beard, like in the stories?"

Miki shrugs, the gesture almost lost in the dark. "I did not notice a beard, but yes. And it said-- az istenit!" The final exclamation is clearly a swearword, not meant to be a quote from the unicorn.

Simon blinks again. "What?" He looks around, peering into the dimness.

Scrambling to his feet, Miki mutters something under his breath in Hungarian, then says to Simon, "I have to go, Simon. I promised my brother that I would be home tonight, and--" His head swings around, as if listening, and he says something, urgently, in Hungarian. He looks back at Simon and says, "I am sorry, I will come back soon, I promise--"

Simon nods, his shadow-hidden expression one of complete confusion. "Um, sure, Miki..."

Miki leans forward and swiftly kisses Simon on the mouth before turning and hurrying towards the ladder. Before he gets there, however, he stops and says, "Varj egy percig, not /here!/ It will frighten--" and vanishes.