Persephone

To suggest that the sunset mare did not look well as an outcast would be an understatement.  Her pretty locks were ragged, despite her best attempts to clean them; her ribs showed, albeit just barely, beneath her colorful hide.  There was a gaunt look to her eyes that spoke of hardship and fear, and as she cowered before the massive stallion, it was quite obvious that she was not well-suited to the life of a loner.  She was not entirely unhealthy, but it had been a long, difficult winter, and she had not fared well as an outcast.

Still, what was she to have done?  It had been difficult enough to gather her courage to leave the Halcyon Flats, had been terrifying enough to attempt conversation with those who happened to wander through.  What if they had wanted to hurt her?  Use her?  Steal her?  And then, lo and behold, this Dauntless Czar had appeared to usher her into his dark grasp.  It seemed just then that all of her fears had been well-placed, that she had worried for a very good reason.  What chance did she stand against such a strong stallion?

And so she stood before him, shaking with fear, refusing to meet his gaze.  Her ears were flicked back, her eyes cast to the sands, her body was tense, all waiting for a biting word or a bitter strike that would not come.  It was the waiting that tormented the girl, for she had no doubt that this stallion, like her father, had use only for what benefit she could offer him.  But here... she could no longer raise the dead.  She could think of only one other use that could attract a stallion, and somehow the threat of physical use scared her more than anything else.

Do not be afraid, he said; she peered cautiously up at him from beneath her forelock, distrust evident in the fearful lines of her face.  What trickery is this?  He continued to speak, and she stared at him stupidly, uncomprehending.  He had taken her, and yet he had done so merely to offer her a home?  He had stolen her, and yet he meant her no harm?  She might have laughed at the absurdity, but something about his menacing dominant pose cowed her into silence.  A moment passed, and then two.

Then:  "Why?" she croaked, her voice a hoarse squeak.  She cleared her throat, shaking her head, forcing her eyes to refocus and her voice to work.  "Wh-what did I -- h-how did you -- why me?"

"Speech."

OOC ;; @Archibald

Lost in hell, my dear. It's not so dreadful here