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07-03-2012, 08:56 PM
Alerted to the entrance of another being Cat turns to view the brutish mare enter the little clearing. Watching with interest as the paint seems to parade around without even taking a step. Fascinating. So proud and vital, one could take this feathered femme for a mare of power. A Lady of bearing, someone Cat could work beside, look up to.
Until she opened her mouth that is.
As the paint comes nearly nose to nose with Cat and speaks her harsh words the roan wants to step back. But doesn't, she holds her own, staring her own dark liquid pools into the bright blue ones of the mare before her. But before Catalyst can say anything an inky shape materializes close by. Her eyes flick skyward as a golden shape comes to alight upon the rump of this new comer. Smaller then the paint (for who isn't?) and even a wee bit shorter then Cat herself. But height isn't the end all and be all of everything. Her own bitch of a Mother could tell you about that, if she wasn't rotting somewhere. Sometimes good things really do come in smaller packages, pardon the cliche.
Her eyes glance from one to other and then focuses upon the sable shade. She speaks nicer then the brutish one and even offers a name. However, her next words do bring a reaction. At the mention of her blood-lines Cat twitches violently, her whole bearing becoming a combination of anxiety and malice. She had hoped to avoid her past but it appears to follow her where ever her hooves take her. Her own voice is rusty, ill used of late Then there is no need of an introduction from myself, as you already have named me. She casts her gaze upon Brooke, mentally thanking Mirage for speaking her name. Names are power. And to you Miss, I am neither lost, nor hopeless. Clearly you were wishing for one or the other? She shifts her weight to a hind, for she isn't going any where right now.
Things are getting ... interesting.
Until she opened her mouth that is.
As the paint comes nearly nose to nose with Cat and speaks her harsh words the roan wants to step back. But doesn't, she holds her own, staring her own dark liquid pools into the bright blue ones of the mare before her. But before Catalyst can say anything an inky shape materializes close by. Her eyes flick skyward as a golden shape comes to alight upon the rump of this new comer. Smaller then the paint (for who isn't?) and even a wee bit shorter then Cat herself. But height isn't the end all and be all of everything. Her own bitch of a Mother could tell you about that, if she wasn't rotting somewhere. Sometimes good things really do come in smaller packages, pardon the cliche.
Her eyes glance from one to other and then focuses upon the sable shade. She speaks nicer then the brutish one and even offers a name. However, her next words do bring a reaction. At the mention of her blood-lines Cat twitches violently, her whole bearing becoming a combination of anxiety and malice. She had hoped to avoid her past but it appears to follow her where ever her hooves take her. Her own voice is rusty, ill used of late Then there is no need of an introduction from myself, as you already have named me. She casts her gaze upon Brooke, mentally thanking Mirage for speaking her name. Names are power. And to you Miss, I am neither lost, nor hopeless. Clearly you were wishing for one or the other? She shifts her weight to a hind, for she isn't going any where right now.
Things are getting ... interesting.
