Larue

A woman approached, and the lemony filly straightened out of her play-bow, small head swiveling to watch her approach. She is full of smiles and happiness, much like her mother. But, unlike mother, she is blue with an ornately carved horn sprouting from between her eyes. Her greeting was dipped in the sugar that her father was spun from, and the filly just stopped her eyes from rolling as the other’s muzzle dipped warmly to brush her own, “I’m Larue.” She quickly broadened her saccharine grin, reaching up to bump the woman’s own (perhaps a little harder than necessary for a greeting), before she danced away on sender pink legs.

But the woman quickly redeemed herself, much to the tart filly’s delight, as a mischievous smirk covered her face accompanied with playful words. Perhaps this mare was more fun than the filly had initially given her credit for. Large grinned, about throw her own heels up to mimic Tiamat— but is interrupted by yet another. This was a colt.

Her head rose and her fuzzy ears perked. He was obviously older than her youthful self, and he was covered in gleaming gold. He addressed her dad and the newly met, still-on-the-fence-about Tiamat, and then he turned his dark blue eyes on her.

“Who’re you?” Immediately, her pale yellow face grew pinker as a blush spread. Gone was her pomp and cheekiness, abandoned in the face of such a handsome young colt. Teal eyes widen as her fluffy tail ticked anxiously—and the golden boy is speaking again, saying sorry and introducing himself.

The moment his eyes leave her and glance towards his hooves, she felt the breath she was holding leave her tiny nostrils. “Larue,” she is relived that her voice had returned to her even if she had only managed to blurt out her name. A pause and breath, then she is saved as her bright, sharp teal eyes catch sight of—of something not-quite-but-almost-lurking just off from the gathering of foals and adults.

What was it? The curious thought darted through her mischievous brain just as she darted towards the spotted, large foal. But she quickly drew up short, lemony body abruptly halting as she got a good look at the beastly colt, “What're you and what’s coming out of your mouth?” Pertness colored with disgust throws her questions out at the silently stalking Ru’in, not even asking for his name.