Through the trees, some distance from her little haven there stretched a slip of lush grass, free from the forests thick shading hood. Another loitered there within sight, though seemingly quite oblivious to the two mares by the rock pool. Softly squinting cream eyes peered through the bar-like tree trunks at him briefly, noting that all he seemed content to do for the moment, was doze. A leisurely flurry of steamy breath spilt from the flare of Africa’s velvet black nostrils, and she reconfigured her focus, tilting her face toward the young mare with crimson locks. The stranger’s lips curled derisively, the look grotesque and not what the kind-hearted dapple grey had expected. Her cupped ears danced uncertainly, but again came to rest forward conscientiously; politely. Her gentle gaze narrowed between thick rims of long black lashes, searching the unpleasant, tactless pinch engraving the other horse’s slim shadowy face; her ears were pinned angrily, and blunt, off-white teeth had been bared in threat.

Instinctively, Africa retreated backwards two strides to perhaps preserve her safety with distance, from an unwarranted attack. It was not the first time she had come to grief in such undeserving fashion, and although unwise in many ways, self preservation was perhaps the strongest impulse in her character. "Honey, I'm your worst nightmare. Who do you think you are walking up to strangers, little lady?" The aggressive horse spat, her words sour with thick, venom-like sarcasm. Although astounded by the rude, obnoxious creature before her, Africa was not immediately deterred. She lifted her face, involuntary and her neck ached elegantly upwards so that she might gaze from the same arrogant stature as her not-so-much taller company.

She was not intimidated, nor was she contrite, and a patiently amused smile passed fleetingly across her parting lips, ignoring for now the offensiveness of the personality before her. “I am Africa. ” She replied to the question with a plain tone, her eyes nursing the other cooperatively. “If you would prefer I left...” She continued with an indolent shrug, letting the last of the words dribble quietly into the cool breeze. No judgement was passed, despite the large degree of general ignorance- this horse was hardly her worst nightmare, the worthy owner of that identity wore a pointed stick between his foul, lustful eyes. There was no resemblance; no comparison...
There was also no obligation for the grey mare to stay, and frankly she thought her time might be better spent in the company of the pale, napping stallion, still stationary beyond the trees.

She was willing to offer the benefit of the doubt however.