Ears flickered warily as a woman's voice rose up amongst the stone, gentle hoof-beats reverberating through the icy tundra below. I was able to catch a glimpse of the dark creature shift before twisting about to face the newcomer. She was dark as night, an inky canvas incorporated with the starry facade above. Pale eyes searched over the curve of long neck and the plains of spine and croup, unraveling a picture of grace and... if I did not know better,
kindness. There seemed something inherently gentle about the very way she walked, the twinkle in blue eyes that left a part of me feeling bereft.
"I do believe his name is Sacre..." She began, revealing an equally virgin tone.
"I'm Glacia. Can I assist you with anything?" She asks, showing off an unusual sense of concern for horses she hardly knew. Horses,
horses? (Not so strange after-all it would seem...) I wonder as my gaze transfered back to the shadows, better able to pick out small features of the hulking beast now knowing what it was I sought. The stallion too was dark in expression, although he traded in his stars for suave reds and handsome maroons. There is something bizarre about attraction, for this is the word that comes to mind as I observe the stallion who creeps through the snow. His features are not nearly as refined as
Glacia's, bearing a countenance more hardened and weary. His banter though contradicted the solemnity of his eyes.
"
I am..." I hesitate, tongue working over the ball of anxiety knotted in my throat "
Bathsheba. Pleasure to meet you." (or so that has yet to be seen).
"Talk."
ooc - gomen xoxo
@Sacre @Glacia
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[O] The Mountain Smoked Beneath the Moon
