Heavy footsteps followed me from not too far away, the grotesque scent of the marshes following right along with the dull pounding. I pulled my face to the left, examining the shadows only to see nothing. The thick black belt that circled the outskirts of my vision was interrupted by a white body, who's face I could not exactly made out. "Hello pretty one-" A smirk pulled the right corner of my lips up, purple eyes reaching out in order to attempt to make out who exactly the charming stallion was.

His thick voice continued on, explain that we had met, adding on that I -the lonesome female- always attracts the wrong attention. Dark ears rotated around like satellites, catching every word, along with the scuttling of field mice as they squirmed away from the meeting. My legs stretched out in turn, carrying me toward the voice that I knew I've heard before. And even if it were "the wrong attention" that this stud may be bringing to the table, it's not like I can't hold my own.

Another smell radiated off of the bright body as I neared; something that smelled so familiar, yet so different at the same time. It was blood, no doubt, but what body it had come from I'm not so sure. The coppery scent seemed to flood my brain, leading me to believe that the male was coated in the liquid like a wild beast during their meal. I was never one to really enjoy the taste of blood, it seemed to make me nauseous after being around it for too long.

The face formed from the night, bright blue eyes igniting out of the darkness like iridescent flames. This very same stud had splashed his way toward the meeting that Seele had called us all to just nights before.. or perhaps it wasn't that long ago? I know there had been a period of sleep between the meeting and now, but was I missing my next slumber already? "Arlo, correct?" My voice raspy as if I had been screaming my entire life. This was something I had always enjoyed about myself -other than looking as sleek and built as I am- the fact that my voice was so different from other prissy mares. Though Clownface too has a strange voice.

I cocked my skull to the right, my forelock dripping across my right eye in turn. The blood dirtied his face, speckles strewn across his front half. This very brute is what had been carrying the horrid smell of rusty metal, just as I suspected. My left ear laid back awkwardly, pushing against the twisted horn that grew from under the white mess of hair. "Well," I paused, eyeing the slightly larger stallion. "What are you doing out here?" I pulled my face toward my chest, making it a point to eyeball the grimy film that plastered his mug.

"Speak." Walk walk
@[Arlo]