Kensa
Kensa was a young mare, just three years old when she'd arrived in Beqanna over the winter. Being quite curious by nature she had also been the first to approach unfamiliar objects and creatures in her childhood. Now as an adult, she had a lot more freedom to do so. Kensa knew very few other horses as of yet. She considered her earliest acquaintances Rhaegor and Magnus to be friends but she had no female companions in this land to speak of. That was likely why the sooty bay mare had caught her eye, she was clearly alone here, her sides swollen with a foal that was bound to arrive any day. To see a heavily pregnant mare all alone so close to her most vulnerable time was a little concerning to Kensa and she hoped to be a friendly face and chaperone if she would be allowed. She wondered too, what it was like to be so pregnant, to have a little one stretching your belly almost to bursting. Someday she would be so encumbered, and the very mystery of the condition was thrilling and terrifying.
The reception she received did not put her off. It would not be the first time her outgoing behavior had been a shock to someone. Though Kensa's friendliness was rarely awkward for either party, it had happened before. The mustang woman seemed to intuit that her boldness was uncomfortable for the bay mare. She did not turn away, the bay might be a bit broody or shy but she appeared friendly. Kensa dropped her head a fraction, extending her muzzle slowly in a a calm and welcoming manner. "I'm Kensa. I don't need anything from you, and I can go away if you'd like.." She replied, ever direct but mirroring the other mare's calm tone. "I just wanted to say hello and see if you'd mind a grazing partner." If the idea of a random horse walking up to start and conversation with her was off-putting Kensa could just keep company with her for a while.
Hoping to prevent the other mare feeling too put on the spot, Kensa back up a step and relaxed her posture further. Turning her topaz eyes out toward the surroundings she made the briefest observation, "It's my first spring here. It's very lovely." The breeze came up again, pushing her flaxen mane off of her white-blazed forehead.
give me something to believe in
@[Roseen]
