As always, her thoughts ran a muck within her.  Questions of their destination, who this stranger was, what he wanted.  Just as she predicted, her lack of opposition left a  frown upon the stallion, and when he turned away, she followed.  Her head hung low, white hairs swinging to and fro across her profile.  This was not, however, in defeat.  Rather, she curiously watched as her captor lead her away from the crossroads and down a path littered with black feathers and icy air.  For that is how she sees him now.  He is her captor.  They will never be friends, never have love for each other.  He chose her for an obvious purpose.  What, though?

As the atmosphere grew gradually colder, a sense of comfort came over her.  Mountains.  A security blanket made from protruding rocks.  She always felt safer in the craggy stones.  There are many more places to sneak around and hide.  Evergreen eyes peered upwards, spotting the numerous black birds.  Ravens....the dark fowl seemed to illustrate the darkness that she seemed to be pulled into.  With the dark birds above and the white stallion at her heels, she seemed to be forced into this situation...this herd....without having even realized it. She slowed her step, letting the stranger lead.

He silently lead her into a clearing.  There in the distance stood two more strangers.  A pale female and her smokey foal.  She eyed them, warily looking them up and down.  She isn't a fan of younglings.  They are always frolicking and prancing about, like they don't realize how dreary life really is. Her ears flicked back, realizing that once again, the stallion had weaseled his way against her.  His touch sent chills down her spine, though she could not decide whether they were in ecstasy or fear.

The other mare....Bellfae wasn't sure if they had yet noticed her arrival.  Did she care?  Dark, playful thoughts swung through her mind.  How awfully fun it would be to thread doubt and discomfort through this stallions herd.  With her green eyes shining, her head swung around.  She met his chest with her soft muzzle, nipping it ever so slightly, almost as if she was claiming him as well. But not for love.  Not for lust.  But because she can.  That is the game she plays.

With quick movements, she pulled back and stepped away.  Her soft voice came out, almost lyrical.  "Bellfae.  That is what i was called.  If you must know."