The golden creature rarely leaves the comforts of the Tundra passed dark. Things existed in the dark that outright frightens the mare. The childlike wonder that glows deep in the blue pools, glittering brightly. She can not hide herself from others nor does she try. Maribel was exactly who she chooses to be without giving any sort of consideration to the silly thought of others.

The Tundra princess. The golden angel. The first warm rays of light peeking over the very brim of new mornings.

But tonight...tonight she dares venture outwards to the Field. With the change of darkness, Mari cloaks herself in the richest of velvet with the simple change of her mind. Tassels hang at her side, dipped in the rick ink of deep sea creatures and tinged with blue. Her nails shine like polished obsidian in the pale moon's caress.

In this fashion is how Mari finds the hulk of a stallion. The young mare should pay better attention but at least she had not run right into him like she has done in the past with others. He is massive, towering over the mare (who's eyes are like dinner plates). "Oh! Hello there." A smile glides easily across her lips though she isn't sure if it's embarrassment or surprise...

Probably both.

"A rather beautiful night, I'd say, especially for a stroll. I'm Maribel." Now Mari is not like most other horses. She does see the stallion's form torn and decayed but truthfully she is much more fascinated by him than frightened. A slender limb pulls her closer as she i looking rather upward at him with bright blue eyes. "Are you okay? You seem okay...Sorry." A tangle of her smile goes completely lopsided on her face under the gaze of the large male. "Golly, it sure is a clear night." Mari peers up to a sky dappled by small fluffs of clouds...that statement backfiring slightly and she sneaks a look from the corner of her eyes, lobes moving to catch a reply...

...if he had one at all.

Quite truthfully, the young mare does not know what to make of the stallion. He is as though he is made of fire forged obsidian. Black and hardened...but brittle as well. He does not seem to truly see Mari before him or remark on her slight awkward humor.

He reminds her of the sleepy giants in stories that were told to her as a foal but her mother, Isle. Large creatures with a vast amount of cravings whether it be food, sleep, or drink. Blue eyes peer upward at the slivers that seem dulled to her existence but then the jaw creaks open and few words are produced. The mare moves in a practiced pivot (having already made things weird) to better hear the hulking stallion. Lobes are flickering between the low rumble of words and the sounds of the night that wrapped around their dark bodies.

Mari cranes to hear his words, the sour of the atmosphere was choking but the lass did not pull back. In truth, the stallion frightened her. Dark and looking far over her with pale pewter pools that seemingly wrapped their slender little fingers around her and held her tight by the mane. "Perhaps not." It is all she can murmur while in the grip of those eyes. Her own jaw slacking slightly despite the dank scent of mold and decay enveloping them.

"Oh, uh..." Mari gives her head a shake, the dark tresses whipping against her brow before she is able to regain her focus, her purpose of being there. "What's your name?" Perhaps her voice is to light, too feminine for him. Perhaps her eyes are too blue. The dark skinned mare remains cloaked in the black satin of the night as she still remains by the man with the silver eyes and the scent of death.

Maribel has begun to question if she, herself, was standing in the presence of death as she suddenly quivered against a chill in the spring breeze. The unnamed man makes her feel small, vulnerable. She faintly notices her skin prickling for some unbeknownst reason.

The mass of the stallion is without change. He towers like an ancient tree, always and forever. Mari can not look away as she struggles to keep her courage of what was to be expected. If he willed it, he could hurt her, break her. She swallows nervously, her throat dry and coarse. Limbs root the delicate frame to the land, obsidian limbs steadfast.

But it is when she thinks that he is about to snap like the anticipated crack of a gator's jaw, he surprises her. "Velis." Two little syllables to idealize such a horse. Two tiny syllables that help significance . Two little syllables that were capable of rolling off her tongue. "No, I am not afraid." The words are so light and so thin that they are almost cut from glass. The blue eyes continue to be swallowed by Velis' own.

"I found my way here...I don't typically venture very far after nightfall...but I decided to this eve." The statement is chopped by uncertainty and also a dry mouth. Mari shifts in the place she stands as she looks up to the stallion. "I came to offer you a home."

There.
She said it.

It's like the words tumbled out in puzzle pieces and the young mare fought to assemble them properly in her head before she can speak. The chill of the damp night causes her to shiver against in her skin, rippling her form under the moon's watchful eye. "And you...Velis?" Mari is seeing passed the peel of skin, the seep of death. The stallion was not the devil in horse skin but an actual creature with thoughts, words, and possible feelings. Mari is surprised to feel a smile pulling her lips upward as she stands in his company, awaiting his reply.