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“I suppose that’s one way to start the morning,” came the dull voice from one side of the clearing. Taken by surprise, the old mare whipped around (as fast as she could, anyway), and bit her lip just in time to keep from saying, “And I suppose that’s a rather ugly baby!” It was a good thing she had managed to restrain herself however, for a) the stranger who had spoken was much larger than she, and b) the thing her weak eyes had initially mistaken for her rather unfortunate-looking offspring was actually not equine at all. “Well!” was all she finally settled on, huffing as she stared at the newcomer indignantly, “What business is it of yours how I choose to start my mornings? I suppose you like to start yours sneaking up on people!” Though her tone was defensive, Sheba found herself internally relieved that the giant who had stumbled upon her seemed to be placid enough—she hadn’t approached, she had spoken in that peculiar flat way, and she seemed to be content enough with the silence that now stretched between them. Deeming her to be not particularly dangerous, the older mare relaxed a little, though she kept a beady-eyed gaze on the woman and her llama. One could never let one’s guard down entirely.
“All right then,” she griped, gravelly voice breaking the quiet for the second time that morning. “Out with it—I suppose you’ll want to tell me your name and where you hail from, and all that chatty nonsense that neighbors like. Go on.” The wizened mare took an arthritic step forward, in a pained demonstration of goodwill. If the stranger wasn’t going to leave on her own, she might as well ensure that the larger mare wouldn’t decide to crush her. Glass clinked in the baubles knotted into her tangled mane as she moved, the only hint of beauty left on her body gleaming in the winter light. If anyone had thought her beautiful now, it would certainly have been a generous description or some innate character trait that allowed them to see the potential in even the most wretched of creatures. Though she had been beautiful once, she was no sight for sore eyes now, with her jutting bones and patchy fur, dark skin underneath dull and flaky from lack of regular sunshine. She certainly wasn’t the prettiest of pictures, yet still, she carried herself with a sort of haughty pride even in the presence of a much healthier-looking specimen. “What’s your name, then?”
"speech"
OOC: So excited! She's probably a little grubbier than December gives her credit for, but her ego certainly wouldn't mind if that's how she chooses to see her xD
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