Tallsun light in its sovereign season filters haphazardly through the breeze-tousled canopy arched overhead to dance in dappled geometry across the forest floor. A few shafts, undisturbed, sparkle with dust motes as they shear through the bush, contouring Imonada's lean figure in bright highlights and deep shadows; her Arabesque ancestry translucent, displayed in fine sloped ridges and articulate symmetry. It's there in her sleek neck, too, as it easily stretches to accommodate her foraging amongst the low-laying thicket. Large, loose-petaled flowers in varying shades of canary yellow are being snatched up methodically with clean nips at their stems, each colorful head disappearing quickly into her mouth. Not normally one for mindless grazing, the little blossoms provide her an extra treat in addition to their savory syrupy nectar; a heady astir buzz not unlike one gifted by caffeine. For an addict such as this small flightless pegasus, who wasn't merely drawn to particular effects but also the promise of alteration to her sensitive perceptions, she took her game just about anywhere.

About ready to devour another hapless bloom, a faint growl abruptly stops her instead. Instantly, tension tightens her muscles across the board, her relaxation swirling down the drain as it is milked away by apprehension. Jerking her head up toward the direction of the sound, ears forward and straining, acuity silencing the joyous twinkle of wind and the serenading birdsong, the area falls victim to her nimble survey -- but through the palisade of the trees, she only catches a glimpse of thick flaxen hair set in lazy waves, complimented by a swatch of sunkissed hide splattered with droplets of white like paint flecked from a brush, before the stallion calls out and announces himself with movement to match.

She stays back within the shelter of knitted copse to gauge the situation at first, blatantly eyeing his sturdy form in an informative pursuit -- with, perhaps, a bit of appreciation for his size and exceptional build, a fine embodiment of masculinity she could not help but admire. His dark companion, too, is duly and respectfully noted as she cherry-picks the preferable options of reaction off the conveyor of ideas, before forging ahead with a decision. A soft, ghostly nicker wafts through the heavy summer air, greeting Daemyn as Imonada finally reveals herself to him; a black mare, long wings primed to flex out in customary heralding, her tender expression full of curiosity and wariness.