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Though there were few trees on this godsforsaken island (and consequently little cover), the wizened mare was still rather surprised that they noticed her. For most of her life, beauty had set her apart, and she was no stranger to being placed on a pedestal. Her body had been the target of many a stranger’s gaze, whether it was lecherous, jealous, or openly admiring. But with this withering curse had come an ugliness that usually rendered her invisible, and in situations where strangers would have once approached her, she had grown used to being passed over in favor of those with harder bodies and prettier faces. And while she hated them for ignoring her, Sheba had eventually come to use it to her advantage. She had wrapped her anonymity around her like a warm cloak on a snowy winter night, slipping here and there largely unnoticed.
However, she was not one to show her surprise, and upon the greetings from both the stag (who had now stopped his digging) and the mare (who had seemingly sidled up out of nowhere—curse these rheumy eyes!), she merely nodded curtly. “I suppose it’s pleasant, if you like that sort of thing,” she griped, strolling closer. “I for one, would have enjoyed a walk without the entourage,” Here, she bared her teeth at the flock of birds hopping along behind her and sent them scattering with a threatening flick of her ratty tail. “But we never can have everything we want, can we Badger?” Sheba commented, turning her gaze to the rather pudgy male. Heaving a slight sigh that somehow still managed to be melodramatic, she cocked a hoof and addressed the pair. “Anyhow, they call me Sheba.” Perhaps they expected her to elaborate, to state her rank as Badger had done, but she had never been one for revealing unnecessary details. Besides, niceties were not what interested her.
“What are you doing with those?” she asked, gesturing with her muzzle to the small bundles just visible underneath the nearest rock. From the way he was letting the little deer creature snuffle all over them, Sheba guessed that they weren’t particularly important, but she wanted the satisfaction of hearing him answer. And he would, she suspected. Badger, she judged, was not the type to lie—his face was too honest and his girth too soft to allow for deception. Sheba enjoyed subtlety and trickery as much as the next conniving shrew, but why slip through the bars of a gate when you had the key?
OOC: Yay for table/perspective changes mid-thread oops. Also, I apologize for the delay!
"speech"
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