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The steps of another seemed to echo in her head, taunting her. A fluttering beat hammered in her chest as she waited, head turning sharply and nostrils flaring at the call of another mare. The scent was unmistakable, and she settled ever so slightly, though the lines of her star kissed figure remained taut and firm. As the stranger approached from the veil of trees, Serenity scoured her figure for any signs of malicious intent, but she found none. The mare seemed as ordinary and as gentle as herself, and ordinary was a pleasant relief.
The gray respected her space, which Serenity appreciated. Allowing a stranger so close, regardless of the gentle state of their soul, seemed premature and rather unsettling. She stood taller, and her coat was a warm shade of dappled gray with crimson streaks in a charcoal tail. The brown orbs held warmth in both their expression and color, and Serenity felt a sliver of hope take hold in her saddened heart. If only the remainder of this land held such care and kindness, such a polite demeanor.
Africa's words lingered on the air invitingly, lacking the ceremonial haughtiness and grandeur normally reserved for introductions. The greeting was spoken as if between friends, and Serenity's hawkish eyes watched the mare curiously but no longer with suspicion. "I am Serenity," she replied, her accent long and deep of sounds and vowels. She was about to speak again, but another approached who seemed on the cusp of a break down.
The blue and golden Serenity tilted her auds back, unsure about what to do with the display of such open and wild feelings. Compassion sparked in her heart, of course, but she had never been allowed to act on the yearning desire to aide. This stranger was gray as well, but darker, and she was obviously pregnant. What was she doing, straying so far from home in such a state?
Unsure about their purpose in greeting her, Serenity offered a simple, quiet nod to the pregnant mare, unwilling to provoke any drama with words. "What is this land?" Serenity finally asked, tucking her wings a little closer to her sides. Though she was shorter, the starry blue and gold mare was fast, especially in flight. The angle of her wings was tapered toward precision flight, like those of a hawk. "Are there herds?" she asked, wondering if a few bands had risen up in what appeared to be a lovely place. But every rose has its thorn. Serenity just wanted to be aware of them before being pricked.
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