The little slave girl stared out at the rain, flustered. It was a new emotion for she who had always been so very careful and in control of the situations she had found herself in (or, at least, how she had been treated, if nothing else). The rain drops fell as thickly as ever, and she was distantly grateful that she had not found herself hiding beneath a tree limb that would do little to shield her from the pouring skies above. On the other hand, it meant that the odd little stallion that she had somehow earned the company of would not be moving on any time soon. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was actually quite cheered by this fact; but then, she had never been one to give in to emotion, so that was that.

But he was such an odd steed! He spoke to her as though she was of his status, as though she were not branded and marked as a slave. The bangle on her foreleg told her story as plain as day, if he could not see the crest of the Royal Family on her flank. Even if he did not know what the mark meant, in terms of ownership, surely he would be able to realize that she had been branded! And yet he continued to babble on cheerfully, as though trying to draw her into conversation, when she knew that she should not be associating with the likes of him. He may have been but a merchant in her country (for he was naught but an equine, and they were typically of a lower social caste), but he was still a far cry from a slave. Indeed, she had known merchants who owned slaves, and none of them had been half as kind as this stallion.

She managed to remain silent for a few moments, shyly avoiding his gaze (and, coincidentally, being unknowingly rude), but then he offered his name once more, and she found herself drawn to look at him again with raised brows. Surely he knew that she was a slave, and therefore beneath his rank, and therefore certainly not allowed to use his name! But there was such earnestness on his face that she had to wonder - was he, perhaps, from a land without slaves? Did such a place even exist? It must be a horrible, anarchist land, she decided quickly, for what kind of society functioned without slavery?

"Oh, no, good Sir!" she exclaimed quickly and fervently, "It would not be at all proper." Confusion shone through her bicolored orbs, finding its way into the lines of her face. How in the world was she supposed to explain her position to him? It wasn't a subject commonly spoken of in polite company, and she was nothing if not polite. But then he gives her an opportunity, inquiring into her past with interest. Still puzzled, and entirely bewildered by the stallion, the little slave girl offered an answer that she hoped would clear the confusion but remain polite. "This one comes from a distant land, good Sir, called Th'orqui. Slave traders rescued this one, among others, when the Royal Family was overthrown and the Palace left in ruin; the slaves were sold to new masters in many realms between here and the land that was Th'orqui. This one's Master perished of illness close to the borders of this land... Are there no slaves here, good Sir?" There was a hint of wild hope in her vocals, for what was she without her position? Was she doomed to a life of vacant wandering?

"Talking"

Wilibald

[OOC | Sorry, hun! I wasn't ignoring him introducing himself - she just doesn't understand using names. xD]

Kaiylia