05-06-2016, 04:55 PM
A kiss is not a contract
So, it would seem that Besra wasn’t alone in her search for companions. Zara had noticed the eerie quiet around here too. It’s not so much that it bothers the roan girl - privacy is privacy, after all - she just wonders why the mares would let a single entity tear apart their opportunity at comradery. Just look at her and Zara now: already easing into conversation without a missing hair or flying hoof. Anything was possible, Besra was determined to see this through. She returns Zara’s lighthearted smile, head dropping to her knee so that she can rub her cheek in lazy circles across it.
“A foal! But you’re so young!” Besra announces, head rising to view the black mare with wide eyes. Her herd mate was trim, a slight of a thing with bright eyes and energy enough for the two of them. Besra couldn’t even imagine having more pent up excitement in such a womanly frame. “And yes, I do enjoy a good run. I’m not exactly the quickest, but I can go the distance.” She says, shifting slightly on her well-built legs. She used to run with her father, sometimes, when he soared above her in his other form. The two would coast along the edges of the Gates, her always wishing to be up there with him.
Wishes were fun things to make, but worse to dwell on. “I’m glad I’ve met you now, before I have to leave.” She sighs, turning her to face to the sun for a moment. “I’ve been stolen by another stallion.” Besra tells her, a frown tugging at her lips. Only a coward used tricks to obtain what was not rightfully his. She’d met Archam, once in the field. She’d turned him away then and she’d turn him away now. Besra would die before buckling under the pressure of an oppressive brute. “But enough about me. What’s your foal’s name?”
“A foal! But you’re so young!” Besra announces, head rising to view the black mare with wide eyes. Her herd mate was trim, a slight of a thing with bright eyes and energy enough for the two of them. Besra couldn’t even imagine having more pent up excitement in such a womanly frame. “And yes, I do enjoy a good run. I’m not exactly the quickest, but I can go the distance.” She says, shifting slightly on her well-built legs. She used to run with her father, sometimes, when he soared above her in his other form. The two would coast along the edges of the Gates, her always wishing to be up there with him.
Wishes were fun things to make, but worse to dwell on. “I’m glad I’ve met you now, before I have to leave.” She sighs, turning her to face to the sun for a moment. “I’ve been stolen by another stallion.” Besra tells her, a frown tugging at her lips. Only a coward used tricks to obtain what was not rightfully his. She’d met Archam, once in the field. She’d turned him away then and she’d turn him away now. Besra would die before buckling under the pressure of an oppressive brute. “But enough about me. What’s your foal’s name?”