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The way he retreats, an apology issuing from his dark lips, surprises you. Are you really that intimidating? As much as you’d like to believe it, you are beginning to get the sense that he truly does not mean you any harm. Is that possible? Your mind ticks back to a time when you were not so afraid, to a time when courtiers would bow, lowering their heads to you in respect and submission; to a time when you would boldly approach your favorite winged guard when your nurse wasn’t looking and head-butt him playfully with no fear of any consequence but a gentle smile—what happened to those days? Yet that was before the chaos came and before you found yourself alone, with only your inexperienced young body for defense. Your fearlessness you left in Th’orqui, and like your lost home, you must seek it out as well. But the young stallion is speaking once more, drawing your attention. “We’ve met before,” he informs you before conceding, “…but I could be mistaken. I’m Hawkeye.”
Hawkeye. A glimmer of recognition begins to dawn somewhere in your chest, and your breath catches in your throat. Is this the stranger whose hoofbeats echoed your own in the dark? Whose voice left you with the light? Quite unexpectedly, a lovely little montage of fairytales begins to play in your head, bedtime stories your nurse would tell you about silver knights swooping in to save the day before vanishing mysteriously, brave and valiant knights who would win the princess’ heart, knights who somehow were always the way to happily ever a--what are you doing, Nasreen?! You blink awkwardly, unsure of what just happened and left with an uncomfortable warmth in your face. If horses could blush, you’d be scarlet right now. It’s the most peculiar feeling, and you’re not sure what to make of it. All you know is that suddenly, you don’t want him to go away…at least, not for the moment. He’s keeping the appropriate distance, right?
“I…I didn’t recognize you,” you mumble lamely, façade falling more and more quickly by the minute. You know that the gracious thing to do would be to apologize—profusely, even—but even though your fear has mostly subsided, you still don’t want him to think of you as some weak little girl. Why that suddenly matters so much is beyond you, but you’re too flustered to sort through every little step of your reasoning right now, so for the moment you leave it be.
@[Hawkeye]
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