The forest was quiet on this particular morning, the forest leaves and vegetation damp with morning dew. It was a rather warm day, surprisingly, the morning chilled but still bearable. Other equines and wildlife gathered about, though none seemed to notice the mare curled up beneath the protection of a tree.

Her pelt was of cream and sorrel, a splotched combination she'd yet to see on anyone else. Her eyes were closed, her barrel rising and falling gently as she slept. Her cream forelock hung limply against her forehead, a long and flowy tail splaying out around her. Chestnut audits clicked occasionally as insects buzzed by, though she remained within the confines of sleep. Her coat was damp, an indication that she'd been there since late at night.

Penryn had no dreams, no memories or thoughts to fill the blackness she floated in. She was just so tired. And so, here she lay beneath the shelter of a tree, asleep in a land she knew nothing of. Blissfully unaware of those around her.

Sleep never lasted very long. Or maybe it did and Penryn just couldn’t feel it. Either way, it had felt like nothing but a measly five minutes before hazel eyes peaked beneath pale and chesnut lashes. It was but for a moment, the rays that slowly bled into the area hurting her eyes. She still wanted to sleep. Just a few more hours of quiet oblivion, that’s all the mare wanted. It's all she asked for. But fate had different plans.

At first, Penryn hadn't even noticed the canine situated in front of her. Instead, she'd tucked her head a bit closer, fully intent on falling back off the edge. But she'd caught sight of the blurred figure, just barely. And then it dawned on her. There was a predator sitting in front of her.

Her head went up, a snort escaped her. Dark eyes were wide in surprise and panic, though she remained seated. She fully intended to reach out with her maw and snap, maybe catch a mouthful of hair. But the way the wolf sat, like it was waiting, had the mare hesitating, eyes weary and body tense for a grand leap up. Her pink nose stretched forward, nostrils quivering as she eyed the femme. This dog… smelt funny. Like a mix of two creatures. The underlying scent of an equine.

“Hello…” the mare murmured, drawing her head back. What possessed her to speak to the animal that could very well rip her throat out, she didn't know. Chestnut audits flicked back and forth in uncertainty. “How… how has your day been?” Keeping things civil seemed like a good bet, an attempt to keep her own mind calm.