She would not be a fool like her mother.
Her spirits, so often dark and dismal, lift in a façade of hope. Tentatively, almost nervously, she offers the stallion a smile—she lets her sadness and her loss bleed out from the curves of her mouth and the low slope of her shoulders, tucking away her formidable impartiality. Just like Själ, just like the others she knew to be out there... he, she was certain, felt the same way as she often did. And as she goes to reply, eager words forming on her lips, their strange meeting (with all the heated seduction of a tryst) they are interrupted.
Red eyes close as she exhales in annoyance.
The wolf turns her head to
Mauja. The white stallion's name is a delicate and malleable weaving of consonant and vowel; she wishes immediately that she might repeat it outloud but she holds her tongue. It was clear that they knew each other, and she did not want to leave a bad impression... even if the stallion might threaten her chance at a Hidden Falls recruit.
Instead she cocks a brow in sultry greeting, forming a loose introduction that does not invite a reply. "And I'm Nymeria."
table by neo ♥
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions