i never said that i would be your lover
i never said that i would be your friend
i never said that i would take no other
As Primarch of the looking-glass lake and the mountains that rise around it much of Kensa’s time is devoted to observing the comings and goings of others. Her borders are open and those who wish to avoid the depths of the Forest or meeting with one of the less friendly Loessian’s often choose to travel along the edge of or right through her home. Beqanna's largest river is something of a highway, and all Kensa's children are trained to follow it home almost immediately after birth. A good lesson, and one that many others residents have learned before them.
Enter stage right a single strikingly marked—albeit filthy—stallion. From among a group of trees she favors the sabino mare observes the unassuming approach of the stranger for a short time. She is not the sort to linger in the shadows and spy though she does not immediately set out to intercept him. The sun is high now and the shade is comfortable...but really she is following the lines of the piebald’s frame, appreciating the thick strong limbs and the muscles that ripple beneath the cracked mud clinging to his pelt. His is a draught she has not tasted.
These thoughts the tricolor sabino does not wear on her face as she steps from the shade, though her attention is sharpened by interest in the massive stranger.
Sunlight reaches for her, greedily soaking into the deep liver chestnut of her back and flashing against the gold that veins and freckles her skin. She is a small thing, long of leg but compact and buxom. The way she moves betrays the vast amount of time she spends ranging about Hyaline and elsewhere, her gait smooth and steps deft.
Rather than moving to intercept his path along the lake shore, Kensa moves down to it herself so that it can be followed to meet him. This strategy has the advantage of allowing her a longer study of the man as well as an opportunity for him to turn away from her if he is so inclined, which he might, she tells herself to play at a game of not knowing what she is or how the wind over the water will twist her opium scent toward him. She was once perfumed with sweet plum and alpine air and still is, but there are dark and hearty notes now, nothing magical, just a natural change that accompanies one of her less visible traits...and perhaps better suits her nature.
”Kensa.” She says tipping her chin up a little, her voice amplified subtly by the water. “And you are?” She is very friendly for one who delivers her introductions so abruptly, and there is a distinct pleasure in meeting someone new that shines out of her face so that she looks all innocence and sweetness. Outside of Hyaline she would not bother with asking for a name—she muses—and lets the thought sneak into her smile for just a moment before it flits away. Here she is Primarch first. “The biting things that live along the river are particularly voracious this summer.” Topaz eyes dash along canyons of cracked mud at his shoulder. ”You’re welcome to wash that mud away in the lake, though it makes no difference to me.”Oh now, she is just being a good hostess. The eyes follow his neck back up to his face as she at last stops a polite enough distance away, though she reaches her muzzle out in greeting to negate the distance.
@[Chemdog] Sorry this is so long, she ran off on me
