[open] runnin' away to the riptide; [any]

[Celeana]

Celeana

Sloene's vocals are sweet laced with a friendliness that was way too sweet and fluffy for Celeana's taste. It feels foreign, as it eases through her alabaster lobes. Far more gentle as it caresses her mind unlike the barbed words of her queen, and the many that stood behind her "Royal Highness".

Her emerald gaze meets the ebony flecked maiden that joins them. She seems to want to speak, but all she does, is mouth a word. She's unable to make it out, but she grows curious, her Porcelain cranium craning in a perplexed manner. Celeana is tempted to inquiry the mare, but she knew it would be foolish. It was easy to see, the mare was mute. She had met few mute many were telepaths, others relied on the gifts of mind readers. 

Her curiosity peeks briefly, her focus remaining only on the blackened roan mare for a matter of seconds before returning her attention towards Sloene. "Pleased to meet you Sloane." Her white tail lashes at her hocks. And with a friendly grin curling up upon her lips, "What brings you to the field today?"

She hates to go to strictly business, she'd like at least some sort of friendly conversation. Anything to get her mind off of her queen's insults. Just anything.

Where the Wild Things Are