Dröm ♞

The oncoming sounds of hooves and murmurs from what she assumed to be a single horse were noticed, but she did little to call the horse's attention to her. Whether it was out of embarrassment or some other emotions she felt, she stayed silent, eyes growing wider as the sound of leaves crunching under hooves grew louder and louder. Frantic with the approach of another, she held her breath, hoping he'd continue so that she could get out of this herself. Wide eyes grew twice as wide as she spots a strange white dragon, watching her. Then there is a horse there too, watching with worry. 

His familiar face was recognized instantaneously. This stallion had been one of the first horses she had encountered, and he had thoroughly freaked her out and mentioned that maybe Helovia wasn't the place for her. Maybe he had been right. Did she truly enjoy being here like she once had? She was a fat, homeless, mare with no company, save for the occasional meeting with a stranger. "Lace?!" She questioned in her thick Swedish lilt, elegant voice covering up the accusation she had aimed to place into her voice. She didn't have time to remain confused, or mortified by her position, instead a feminine giggle left her lips along with a long sigh. What had she been reduced to?

"You can help me," she began, eyes cast downwards, a large grin placed on the dual-toned lips. "You can teach me how to keep my figure," she concluded, caramel eyes crinkling as her grin doubles in width. She wanted to make another remark to him, perhaps mentioning their last meeting, which he has clearly forgotten because he is does not seem the least bit worried she will bite his ass for trapping her in their last meeting.

The Arab has changed a great deal, though. Her first meeting with Lace had seemed bad at the time, but the ex-Storyteller had bigger problems now. "Why am I always stuck around you?" She murmurs softly, dulcet accent quieting her words further. Does he remember her now?

She did not wait for an answer, instead quickly moving along with the conversation. "Help would be fantastic right about now, Silverthorn." She vaguely recalls setting him off by calling him Mr. Silverthorn. Now that she isn't timid nor afraid, she may just want to piss him off, see how far he goes before he snaps. Honestly, life could not get worse for the mare at this point. What could he even do to her to make things worse in her life? Friendless and alone, would anyone even look for a body if Lace snapped her neck and she never returned? Would anyone even notice her absence?

"chatting."

_shoot for the ^{s t a r s}