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The dark bodied mare is less than enthused at my appearance, to be certain. In her stance forms what could be construed as defeat, even though this conversation has barely started. While I am quite aware that she would likely have sought this stallion as her companion, I am not quite ready to forefeit him to Mirage's ranks of outcasts. Still, I find her immediate withdrawal almost disheartening. As a mare of great confidence, I shudder to think about how it must be to lack such an important element, as this one appears to.
Judging by her appearance, I would guess that she is one of Mirage's siblings, especially because of the closeness they had displayed during the meeting. My own daughter and I had not even been so close as the mares, and I would have expected the two sisters to be more similar. However, while Mirage had immediately impressed me with her bold speech and strong heart, this other sister was more reserved and timid - easy to fall to defeat. I have no pity for the victim who places themselves there, only distaste.
There is no room for disdain on this night, despite how I may loathe the way she seems to cower into submission. She is my ally, a friend, and I shall treat her as such, even if I may not understand how she operates. My thoughts cannot linger much longer on the dark beauty before me, as it appears the stallion has regained his wits. His greeting to me is both friendly and formal, proffering a name by which I should call him. I smile gratefully at the stallion, my blue eyes slipping toward his own darkened shape in the dimming light.
His words continue, describing to me a bit about himself. The explanation he offers would account for the awkward first lines shared with the dark mare. A lack of interaction with others can leave you hungry for conversation. I had been starved before arriving in Helovia, myself. The first encounter after such long periods of solitude can be very jarring, to say the least, and I immediately forgive his former slips of courtesy. A lot can be said about those who travel, but I have a sinking suspicion that he, like many others who wander, are not looking for their future, but trying to escape their past. I wonder to myself just who or what he happens to be running from.
"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Krishna Vrishni." My voice is feminine, yet holds a strong note of authority. Unlike my daughter, who often spoke with all the ferocity of a tinkling bell, my voice had a thick layer of steel behind it - one not so easily ignored nor challenged. The voice of a warrior. "Are you seeking to end your travels soon, or does your heart still yearn to wander?"
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