aisling
In other times, she would have laughed, would have enjoyed the mischief of it, the fun. Aisling was fond of games, fond of well meaning tricks, and after all, as the Thief of the Basin she was in no position to look down on anyone for being particularly light fingered. She didn't laugh now. She was too tired, to frustrated to worried. Chaos threatened Helovia (Literally. Kaos.) and the little mare had been tearing across the land trying to find some trace of her absent Lady. Protecting the Basin was the only thing on her mind right now, ensuring that her home and family were safe. For the first time in Aisling's life, she didn't have time for games.
Grey eyes were stormy as they watched the older mare step from the shadows, "It's my job to be quick." her normally bell-like voice was clipped with impatience and even that felt strange on Aisling's tongue. She fumed for a moment as the other spoke, furious at the interruption of her search but though she turned her body to face the old mare, she made no move to attack. The would-be ribbon thief was taller than Aisling (not hard to be) but built daintily and where Aisling was sturdy and rounded, if the faerie had been inclined to brawl she might have had the advantage.
As it was, Aisling wasn't the type, and so when the old mare ended she opened her mouth so at least give her a piece of her Irish mind (Da's choicest swearwords being pulled out of storage) "And if ye--" She began, but was cut off by a merrily high-pitched screech as a blur of green zipped past her head from above and hurtled into the ground between the mares. Sorcha landed her dive in a roll over the new grass, and came out of it in a bouncing, weasel-like gait. Chirruping madly, clearly excited, the crimson crested dragon bounded toward Sheba, a pretty purple flower clutched in her jaws.
"Sorcha!"Aisling watched her companion with mounting incredulity. Really, she was too gregarious for her own good. Sorcha however, paid no mind to the annoyance of her bonded and plopped on her little back legs directly in front of the stranger, took the flower in one of her dexterous paws and, stretching her long body, held it high to present it to the unicorn.
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[O] The Old Gray Mare Just Ain't What She Used to Be.
