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07-23-2015, 09:31 PM
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If anything could be said of the red mare, it was that she did nothing in haste. The Basin had been her intended destination, that was true enough, but even with that goal so close, the red mare loitered upon it’s doorstep. All she had every heard of the Basin lent itself to caution, roomier had it they were not overly welcoming to strangers. Crowned as she was with a horn upon her brow, she might stand a better chance but the place was still well guarded. She might have stayed there for hours yet, watching, carefully considering how best to approach but she was saved that by the approach of an interesting pair. Their scents were easy to pick up off the air. With nothing around but ice and snow and rock there was little to mask it. So, this barren landscape is not so lifeless after all. maintaining her gaze upon the frozen water, her ears swivel backwards listening for approaching footsteps. One approaching, no problem….No! Two. One on hooves and one on quiet paws… She prepared for battle, for when it came to anyone but her twin that was the only outcome. It could be the physical (her mother had made sure she was proficient enough to hold her own) or it could be mental (her own wheelhouse and favorite game), but life was a battle, no matter who the opponent was. Almost unnaturally still, she waits for the approach and is surprised to hear this interested sniffing of dog. She turns her head, slowly, smoothly, watching the canine’s excited progress, eventually following with the motion with her feet until her body turns toward the stallion. It’s not until he speaks that she finally shift her inscrutable gaze to the stallion. It’s him… it has to be. She was surprised how similar they were, but for the horn and the placement of white patches the resemblance was marked. Blood or not though, she was determined to get the measure of Déodat before giving anything away. She held is gaze after he demanded an identification and for several seconds gave no expression and made no motion at all. This was always her game. Watch. Wait. Listen. Learn. Finally, she smiled. It was a pretty thing, so most stopped there before noticing that it lacked any warmth. “I’ve been told I’m quite likable. She’s a pretty thing herself, though keeping some strange company for one of her species.” Her tone is slightly strange if one pays enough attention. It seems friendly but she hasn’t yet mastered the forgery and once in a while a word or an inflection is still harsh and withholding. “My name is d’Arcy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Déodat.” black heart's comin' she’s a cold machine cuts like a knife, gentle and clean |
Sorry for the tense-shift, playing around with her :)
