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05-06-2014, 09:45 PM
delsolea the static on your arm - it is the catalyst It seemed that they were not the only two under the tree in this burst of brilliant rain. Yet even so, Delsolea noted the less than happy way he moved and when he spoke, it echoed there as well. Without much further thought, Delsolea backed away a step or so, remaining under the tree but so she could see the other mare and the strange stallion, who seemed to carry some kind of bag strapped across his shoulder.
It was the horned woman who spoke in return to him. Delsolea was glad her horns seemed to go straight up rather than out to the side – saved her having to dodge to avoid them. It was right what she said though, Delsolea felt a smirk tug at her mind but didn’t let it show on her face. There she allowed a little disdain, though nothing too unfriendly. She’d never been so good at this friends making thing either, maybe when she had been younger but not for a very long time now. “Ain’t that the truth. Rain doesn’t make for a good cologne very often,” she says, feeding off the mare a little in regards to having something quite sassy to say, though she doesn’t smile, doesn’t grin. She only watches. The silence hangs; the only sound the rain falling around them. For a moment, Delsolea wonders if this would be as awkward as it felt the entire time. She is curious about what is in the bag though, but she doesn’t ask. While she isn’t overtly friendly, she does not leap to being personal so quick. “Perhaps introductions are in order… I’m Delsolea,” she says simply, giving her name with a little ruffle of her red wings, as her eyes look from the mare to the stallion – wondering who they were. @[Liit] |
