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A flicker of movement caught the draft’s attention, audits swiveling toward the unknown being that soon revealed itself to be a mare. No, he decided as she came closer, not mare. Flicka. A fine one too, her pelt reflecting the gold and crimson display of the heavens. She seemed enthralled by the flaming colors that painted the sky, and for the time being he kept silent, allowing her to take in the view. He’d be spotted soon enough. There had been a time where he too would have stared at this glorious sunset, drinking in the vibrant hues and feeling something akin to awe.
A brief time later the filly came to a sudden stop, focusing in his direction, presumably on him. This was confirmed when she headed his way, having hesitated for only the briefest of moments. He halted so she could catch up to him more easily, scenarios playing out in his mind only to be discarded almost as soon as they formed. A smile was brought out to cross his maw, radiating kindness and joy. “Lo there!,” she called as she grew closer, and the stag quickly analyzed the sweet voice and friendly tone. He felt that she would be quite amusing, at least for a while. Or perhaps he would decide to keep her. But for now, he still had to gain her trust.
She was beside him now, having just fought her way from a pile of snow. She has blue eyes, he noted, finding that he liked the bright azure color that distance had obscured from him earlier. Truly a stunning flicka, and certain to grow into an even more amazing mare. Her question recalled his thoughts from their ramblings, and his smile grew. Massive pillars shifted, bringing him around to directly face the little one, and forelegs lowered him into a bow, crown dipping down so far that his muzzle skimmed the snow. “I would be delighted to have your company, little princess.” Chocolate orbs gleamed up at her from behind his flaxen forelock, full of false sincerity. He maintained the bow for another few seconds before he rose to tower over her once again, though he made certain to keep from appearing intimidating. “My name is Sandman. Might I have the honor of knowing the name of a beauty such as yourself?”
OOC:
Walking the walk
Talking the talk
Thinking my thoughts
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