Ophelia raised a brow in return as he contradicted her words so blatantly. She curiously watched him now, seeing his self-confidence had a keen wit to back it up without seeming stupidly arrogant. "I assessed and observed, but I did not venture to assume beyond what my eyes saw," she replied in her usual, quiet tones. "Your body holds strength, so you have either trained or come a long way. You stand taller than I, making overpowering me a seemingly simple task. I noticed the strange, veined markings on your shoulder and how your eyes seem to be held in darkness. Your coloring is different, but I hold no opinion of these truths either way." The mare smiled with an undefinable emotion. "Much can be assumed, but the last time I ventured to pretend I knew more than I did, I found myself in a bind."
After asking the stallion whether or not he had formed an opinion of her based on his own assessment, she listened curiously, both ears tilted forward and brushing against the sides of her growing, young beast whose crimson eyes never wavered from their vigilant watch. He told her that his birth place did not matter to her, but oh, he was wrong; it did matter. Knowing was a need like a drug that needed to be used and fixed before plunging into the aching desire once more. However, she patiently held his gaze and did not waver from her soft curiosity, her smile only deepening as he held his secrets. Ophelia respected the mystery and the challenge; one day she would know. She could know now, if she so desired; such a simple task it would be to dig past the barriers of his mind and delve into the memories of his childhood.
Though tempting, she refrained. Heterochromatic eyes returned his gaze with depth and unwavering oddity until blinked and lifted a strong, ebony hoof to strike at the ground, and her gaze trailed back up his muscular legs, chest and arched neck before winding back at his blue, demon's eyes. More interesting? What could possibly be more interesting than a past she did not know? Even he did not seem all that interested in his own question, and his opinion that she was pretty and young both reaffirmed her suspicion that he had assumed much about her personage. She wondered if she would disappoint.
"I await refugees from the destruction of my homeland in the hopes that I may put to rest faces in my memories," she replied honestly, her features dimming as she gazed over the stallion's shoulder in the direction of Isilme. "In the process, I recruit a few into a band my sister and I have formed, and others, I ferry to other herdlands." Ophelia shifted in the snow and blinked long lashes before settling a much darker gaze on the young stallion. "Would I be venturing too deeply into your mind to ask what you intend to accomplish in this new land or where you desire to wander?" she asked with a slight smirk, wondering what cards were held close to his chest and which were open for view. Just like his, her words were in no way patronizing, but honest.
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