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12-27-2013, 10:42 PM
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The seraph speaks, and Kaiylia is drawn to the sound like a bee to honey. Even her voice sounds heavenly - she knows that she has made the right decision (did she even have a choice?) to follow the angel-queen. And to compare the rude stallion to the charming mare, well, he quite simply doesn't stand a chance. Besides the fact that Kaiylia has been bound to the unicorn since she entered the scene, had she a choice in the matter, she would choose to follow the fae. And so when the seraphim defends her, calls Kaiylia a friend, the little slave cannot help but glance up (though never to Mistress's eyes, no, never that!) in surprise and gratitude, her bi-colored eyes almost worshipful. The stallion growls at her, and she swallows hard, fear flickering through her again, though her face remains carefully neutral. She does not speak. And despite the nerves that overcome her as a result of the stallion's commands, she places her trust in the angel that has saved her, and she disobeys. Well, he's not her Master, anyway. She rises from her kneel with the grace and ease of practice, shifting her weight so that she can lift the leg that had been outstretched. It is a trick that she learned at the Academy; one raises their sore leg, stretching until their hoof meets their underbelly, and then stretches it in a gentle pawing motion. Three times she does this, a tribute of sorts to her new Mistress. With the angel's back turned, the slave-girl can relax for a moment, and she shakes her head, the shudder running down her spine to shake out the kinks. Her banner flops quickly to the side, as per usual, and her gaze trains itself on the heels of her Mistress, as is proper. But then the stallion is threatening her Mistress, and Kaiylia longs to tell him how horribly rude he is being and how truly lovely her Mistress is, but it isn't really her place, and she wouldn't stand a chance against him anyway. So instead, she fights the urge to whimper and hide behind the ivory beauty and stands stoically, a pace or two to the rear and right of her Mistress, waiting an order, for surely the seraph would rather send her new slave to deal with the pain of the stallion's sure-to-come blow. Surely the angel will not fight to protect her. "Talk talk talk." |
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