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01-20-2014, 08:47 PM
She picks her way across the dying field, the orangemoon grasses beginning to crunch beneath her hooves. She had plodded through a river a while back, and it seems that the further she gets from the water, the less luscious the grass becomes. When the second set of hoofbeats picks up, she thinks that she is imagining it, thinks that she is merely afraid of being alone and her fear is getting the better of her. Her eyes remain trained carefully on the ground as she forces herself not to speed her walking. It's her imagination, that's all - there's nothing out here to harm her. Mistress wouldn't send her off to get hurt, now, would she? But the hoofbeats don't subside, and her auds pick up the crunch of the grass that doesn't quite line up with her own steps, and she frowns slightly at the interruption, still refusing to lift her gaze. But then, she remembers that Mistress had ordered her to talk to others, and so she forces herself to raise her eyes and glance over her shoulder. The mare looks fairly normal, but there is something off about her approach, about the sly look in her eye. The little slave girl shivers, but allows the newcomer to get closer. It is about the time that she speaks that the buckskin catches a hint of the stench accompanying the mare, and she crinkles her nose as she looks away. "This one wonders what a big, bad wolf has to do with anything," she offers, thinking that she ought to just give the mare what she wants and then continue on her merry way. She doubts that the crazies will be of interest to her Mistress. Her pace increases slightly, fear and adrenaline flooding her system. Something is not right here, but she can't figure out what is wrong. "Talking" @[Ktulu] Kaiylia |
Image Credit
Table by Sevin
Table by Sevin
