"What thing sired you?"
The mare, so delicate and wonderfully refined, closed her snow-white, long lashes, sniffing slightly, tilting her head away. She had seen the little shadow appear from afar, and felt she was still entitled her act as a filly. At least she was not filth; far from it, she was a princess, and a stunning one at that. Much more beautiful that one with wings so choppily and clumsily stitched onto the back. She was all pearl, finely stitched silk, creamy, crisp sheets of snow; the chestnut was her undergarment, delicately spun and bleeding out over her coat in just the perfect way; her horn was pale, frosted blue like her large, crystal eyes.
Had the ice princess heard of Mesec, the Moon Halfling? Yes. Of course she knew the gods had run about siring foals- but she had not a clue that the ugly bastard was the offspring of d'Artagnan and the Queen of Night. She simply thought he was some sort of slave, but he also talked to her as an equal. The idea was simply bizarre. Her tail flicked over her battered flanks, her lip curled ever so slightly, simply implying he was not worthy of her attention. No matter the lineage, any unicorn who had mated with a pegasus was most clearly not worthy of unicorn blood.
"Tarak." Snö replied coldly, after seriously considering if he deserved to be talked to by one whose blood ran so purely. But she decided if he smelt of Basin, he couldn't be here simply because he wanted to. There must be a reason. "And before my manners escape, I am Snö, daughter of Psyche the Dark Empress and Mauja the FrostHeart. But if you know anything, colt, you should know that I should be considered the individual. Don't think you can impress me if you know my parents and they like- things- like you." Snö snorted. Normally she saw little use for titles and the like- but she thought a little bit of intimidation would not harm.
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image by jouste @ flickr.com</style>
