If she were more attentive, she would perhaps have noticed the way that the stallion stared at her, ogling her body as though she were a fine piece of art on display. It was not quite the same as being looked at like a piece of meat or perhaps a ripened apple, prime for the taking, as though the one looking wished to devour her; but nor was it entirely polite or acceptable, and given the choice, Xolani would have been quite glad not to have noticed it. As it were, she was quite a bit more interested in her surroundings than the stallion before her, though he would, no doubt, prove to be quite interesting in the minutes to come.

A movement drew the mare's gaze back to him, a smile gracing her lips as she watched the deep bow that the stallion offered her. How very nice of him, she thought to herself, shyly and demurely lowering her gaze to the floor dipping her head politely in greeting. The reverence with which the steed was treating her made the mare quite uncomfortable - she was unused to such a display, having been treated with nothing but disgust in her homeland. Even here, where Ilios had doted on her kindly (at least for a while, she remembered, her mood souring slightly), the overdramatic flair with which this stallion greeted her was abnormal. Particularly for one as plain as her.

He, on the other hand, was a lovely stallion: he was tall, leanly muscled, covered in a beautiful mahogany bay coat. In perfect contrast to the darker colors of his pelt, the man boasted an impressive length of creamy mane and tail that looked to be just as soft, if not softer, than Xolani's. Huge, black horns were set backwards on his head, arcing spectacularly over his long back. A pretty green stone - she didn't know what kind - accented his forehead. His voice, too, was pretty: it was soft and kind, and it brought a smile to her pretty face. He called her lovely, and she shook her head slightly with an amused smile. She was nothing special, as he was no doubt about to find out. After all, she couldn't even talk.

A step or two forward, and she reached out, offering her muzzle with an apologetic smile. On her pelt, a horse's head appeared, appearing to be talking - then a large 'x' appeared over the shape, as though to convey that she could not speak. Perhaps, if he was kind, he would politely excuse himself rather than attacking her - verbally or physically. Or, perhaps... it seemed too much to hope for, but perhaps he would stay.

Thoughts.