Bellisma

Being a self-dubbed Outcast had its perks, Bellisma had to admit. She could do what she wanted when she wanted, which was such a far cry from her previous life that she almost had a hard time fathoming it. She'd sat in her confines, either alone or with unwelcome company, night after night and day after day, praying to be free of that place but with no real stock in those dreams. She'd almost escaped, once - and that had been the most miserable day of her existence. Even thinking of it now caused a slimy shiver to roll its way down her spine, and where she had been previously trotting before she broke into a full run. The speed took her mind off everything other than navigating her path and the bloods pulsing through her veins.

She had yet to explore much of Helovia, so she couldn't say where she was headed now, but as the foliage thickened Bellisma began to slow. Her heavy breaths made her more noticeable than usual, but she doubted anyone else was out here; the area seemed fairly empty. Besides, her little "herd" or whatever the Unbound were supposed to call themselves, had urged her to explore and meet others to build up her courage... So if anyone was around, she shouldn't wouldn't mind at all.

The eerie feeling of being watched made her think twice, though. Subconsciously, her tail flattened against her rump. Emerald orbs scanned the area silently, her sides expanding and contracting more slowly so she would not impede her own hearing. Her hooves dug slightly into the earth, prepared to push off in the opposite direction if need be, even though she tried to tell herself that really having company wouldn't be all that bad. Unless, of course, said company appeared to be a predator.

The hound... thing that suddenly appeared had Bellisma standing tall in her forelimbs and crouching with her hind, prepared to rear if the creature got any closer. If it attacked, she had no idea how she would defend herself other than to strike at it with her hooves - but with three heads (was that normal around here?) she hadn't the faintest idea how effective that would be. It was, at least, smaller than her. Perhaps a different approach would end more favorably for the chestnut femme. Rethinking, Bellisma leaned forward, lowering her head. Her eyes challenged the animal, nostrils flaring in clear opposition. The little mare had enough hatred stored from all those years of torment that it wasn't so hard to conjure the emotion now. Though she was petite, she knew how to make herself a force to reckon with - provided, of course, that she was not shackled.