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His nickname for her made her smile for a moment; it suited her well and she knew it - yet just as quickly as the smile twitched upon her kissers, it faded. She tried to hide her amusement, grunting and shrugging at his explanation and flicking her tail in defiance. "Tigers are fierce, formidable, and would kill you in a heartbeat." She added, glaring through the gloom toward his pale face. It was an open treat, but an empty one and they both knew it. Though if he touched her again, she wouldn't hesitate to slice a lovely new scar into his pretty pelt. Maybe she would give him a red scar to match her own blood red V. Or maybe she would simply cut off his locks and give him some crazy hairstyle - no doubt a pretty boy him him would be taken down a peg or two by an action such as that.
Her glaring and her outwardly stoic persona seemed to trigger something in the stallion. No need to be ashamed, he told her and she huffed, flicking her tail yet again and lashing her hocks. He apparently did not see her faint smile by his words - luckily for her, she wasn't going to be caught grinning like an idiot at his silly words - yet as he told her to smile he called her pretty. Dumbfounded, she raised her brow and stared at the stag. Had she hit his head in her tumble over him? Surely he had concussion and was seeing something different from what she truly was. The mare had never been called pretty in her life. Or maybe he was just good at flattery and did that to any old mare he bumped into.
As she gawped, he leaned down and plucked a flower was the fields. It was as red as the markings on her face - a poppy. Hesitant, she watched him lean forward to pass it to her. Slowly, her own neck reached out and plucked the flower from his lips. Her maw brushed his for just long enough to make her nervous and the crimson flower hung loosely in her jaws. Turning, she placed the poppy into her plait, just above the red band that bound it together. Confused, she gazed at the flower, though she was plucked from her thoughts by his words.
He told her he was escaping - but from what he refused to tell until she told him her own reasons. She shifted uncomfortably, then sighed. "Escaping too, I guess. You have no doubt noticed, I am.... awkward, with people. I was accepted into a herd, yet I am too different to talk to them. They say I am part of the Family Grey, but I know one name out of all of them. Its... Lonely. Its best for people like me to... Remain alone. I guess." She sighed again, then turned away from the stag, gazing toward her herd lands far below the hill. "So, what exactly are you escaping from,, Castiel. Oh, and don't call me Arty, either." She added, but she knew he would no doubt continue to do so.
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[P] Race to the Edge of the World || Castiel
