Bellisma

The strain of her muscles- it burned so good. This was a new sensation for her- pain that she enjoyed? In her previous life she had done anything possible to avoid pain; or at least make the duration as short as possible (which wasn’t easy, given her past captor).

Her thoughts turned to her two interactions with stallions here. They had been successful- well successful to Bellisma meant she had come out of the encounters without being mounted or maimed-

She paused mid-canter (for the crazy little mare had chosen to lope up the never-ending trail), now shrouded in clouds. Unseeingly, she realized that she was thinking of her past in the past-tense. And she was easily cantering an unknown trail. By herself. Thoughts aimlessly wandering, not fearfully attentive to her surroundings.

When had this happened? Was Helovia truly this healing? Or perhaps freedom was just that intoxicating. She briskly shook her head to clear her thoughts, mane damply sending the mist swirling around her honeyed neck. And in a easy jog she broke through the cloud and stopped once more- this time in awe.

It was so- so green. This was as green as her lovely eyes, greener than the oases of home. “Not home anymore,” she thought firmly with a comical stamp of her tiny, black hoof, “This, this is my home,” the second half of her thought escaped aloud. But she didn’t seem to notice as her forelegs buckled to roll in alluringly thick grass-

But she didn’t roll, for the earth was too springy beneath her small hooves. It begged her to dance, and dance she did. Regardless of the long trek up the mountain, of her constant state of fleeing, of her achy muscles and tired tendons. With a half snort, half shrill whinny, she sprung from spongy grass, a graceful, golden pixie fluttering above the verdant cushion.

But her frolic was cut short as her nostrils, flaring with exertion, caught the scent of a hound, followed immediately by the scent of a stud. A unique smell (it was ice and snow, but she did not know this) clung to the stallion’s scent, and her eyes grew wide to wary to outright panicked as she realized her proximity to the man in question.

“Foolish, daft," "-stupid,” the last of her string of expletives for herself escaped aloud as she abruptly landed, becoming a sweat-slicked, golden statue tensed in fear. Wide, jade gaze skittered over his blood bay coat and the thick sinew it stretched over; it skated over his disconcerting two-toned eyes, and came to rest on his twin horns. One was so sharp, the other so jagged. Both could cause so much damage- a visible tremor rippled through her thin, gilded coat.

Breath escaped her nostrils in audibly short gasps as her fear tried to rob her of breath, but her exhausted body demanded oxygen- her tiny barrel and visible ribs rapidly moving. Should she flee? No, he had a hound. Nervously her head swiveled slightly, prey-like gaze seeking the dog momentarily, before returning her frightened, pretty face to the stallion. He was so, terribly large! In her fear, her emerald stare collided with his mocha and sapphire. “Oh,” the breathy word snuck from between her lips as she met the intensity in his eyes- was it madness? Hostility? Power? She didn’t know, and terrified her even more.

Her mouth opened to say something- anything- but her terror stole her voice once more.

ooc| @[d'Artagnan] eek! So I wanted her to be comfortable (and actually speak) around a stallion for once, but I just couldn’t do it yet. She’s still too broken. Poor Bell.
Also, I hope I didn’t overstep with the eyes- I just saw them being so intense from his profile description, I couldn’t help myself! xD