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Her gaze continued to flit between the pair, trying to decide which of them was more likely to attack her. d'Artagnan responded with another threat, and a snort of disgust fled the silver mare's nostrils. "And I'd hate to have to fish it out from your colon," she retorted. Exchanging barbs with a stallion who clearly hated her wasn't something Nyx thought was particularly clever of her, but she had a natural instinct to use sarcasm as a defence mechanism when she felt unnerved, angry or afraid. And right now, she felt all three - in buckets. Finally the beast's gaze shifted from Nyx to the path, an odd noise coming from his general direction. The fact he had been the one to break the stare gave the steel soldier a hollow sense of satisfaction, but it was a small victory. She had earnt nothing but disdain and irrational hatred, things she could really do without. Her body visibly sagged with relief as the stallion took his leave, and she drew in the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Her attention now shifted fully to Mauja, gaze scanning him for any sign of emotion to give away what just happened. She was careful not to meet his gaze fully, for fear it would send him off at the deep end as it had done his bay companion. The stallion stepped forward, as though to prevent her going after d'Artagnan - he needn't have worried, as she had no intention of following the bi-horned man. She could provoke, but she would never seek out conflict without good reason. To her surprise, Mauja apologised for his friend's behaviour, and Nyx's eyes widened a fraction. From seeing the spotted stallion as her biggest threat, he now seemed to have almost morphed into her biggest ally. Prickly, he said, and the iron woman chuckled; a sardonic, cold noise that fled her dry lips like a breath. "I've met porcupines less prickly than him," she muttered. Mauja stared into the middle distance after his blood-bay friend, and Nyx felt a pang of sympathy for him, as well as a healthy stab of guilt that it had been her fault. Now the heat of the moment had passed, the girl felt rather ashamed of her behaviour - she usually knew when to submit and when to push back, but her lines had become blurred on this occasion. Taking a deep breath to completely calm herself, she spoke. "I'm sorry, I should have left when I realised he was getting so..." Her sentence trailed off, unable to find the right word. Antsy? Narky? Irritable? A right bastard? "What was it about me that he took such a dislike to? He seemed okay at first, but then..." Again she couldn't complete her sentence; the words simply deserted her. "Did a grey mare once piss in his water or something?" She spoke with a note of humour, but there was a serious question behind the mask of sarcasm. |
Other characters have permission to use magic/violence against Nyx at any time.
