MY HEART, IT WENT WILD

It isn’t long until she is approached, and Merope prepares herself, ready to defend her child, though she is weak and tired. But this blue stallion moves softly, smiling towards her in a genuine way - and she has seen the looks that stallions will give when their only intention is trouble. He motions to the filly, and Merope beams with a nervous pride.
She wonders, for a brief moment, if her parents ever looked at her like that. But she expects not; Kain was a king, always too busy for anything other than his home and his love-child; Meera was too wrapped up in her own head to think of her sons and daughters. Merope strove to be a better parent - she has failed, on the first two counts, but this is her third chance. And she will get it right this time.

“H-Hello,” she says, wincing at her stutter - she prefers to be silent, to watch and listen, but this situation demands her to speak. Her parents, her siblings, they all told her that with age and experience, the stammer would lessen. They lied. “Th-this is K-K-Kidd. And I’m M-M-Merope.” She watches the stallion intently, hoping that her inability to get a simple sentence out in one breath doesn’t put him off.

The filly hides in the shadow of her mother, watching this blue stallion carefully. His colouring doesn’t interest her; indeed, in this land of oranges and greens and pinks, a pair of bay roan mares are the odd ones out. But her mother had told her - when she could get the words to come out - that they were to look for a home, to find a big, brave, strong stallion who would protect them. Fairytales, whispered words to help a child sleep, but Kidd has held onto that promise for weeks.
She is shy, too shy to speak just yet, but as she gazes at this stallion - big, brave, strong - she wonders if this is the one.

MY HEART, IT WENT WILD

The filly is enraptured, wide eyes following the stallion’s every movement. She is not a silly child, Merope rarely finds her playing or chasing butterflies or laughing at nothing, as she herself used to do. Once upon a time, back when she only had to care for herself - even then she knew that the only horse looking out for her, was her - Merope was a foolish child, easily swayed by anything and everything. But she will not let that happen to Kidd; Kidd is a result of being so foolish.
The boys both left her, too quickly, allowed her to stay set in her ways.
Kidd is more dependent; Merope is grateful to the foal.

Kidd begins to move closer to the stallion, and Merope finds herself shifting, still slightly blocking her daughter. This stallion, he may seem to be that shining knight, but she knows that she should not trust first impressions - she has been wrong before, so many times. But Kidd, still so young, so lacking in life experiences, so curious, she loses her shyness and inhibitions and she twists past her mother’s legs, pushing her dark muzzle up towards the stallion’s own blue face, snorting at him. Merope, a shocked look spread clearly across her face, pushes her daughter aside.
“I-I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” she tells him - Chessur - eyes wide with embarrassment. She dreads to think what he will make of this, of the bold filly who has no obvious manners, and has likely been dragged up, not raised.
She spends too much time worried about what others think of her, and then she worries about the fact she worries. 

“She’s j-just very in-in-inter-interested in y-you,” she murmurs. “In the idea of you,” she wishes to say, unaware that the stallion already knows, that he is in their minds this very moment.
If she knew, she would likely shrug it off - Merope’s thoughts, though occasionally dark, are never bitter; even towards her never-there parents, towards the three stallions that took advantage, towards the endless number of wrong turns she has made or been forced to make in her life.
Merope’s thoughts are usually one thing; hopeful.

She hopes that the offer of a home is coming, she hopes that his talk of more eyes is a promise. She nods, smiling, agreeing that she would like more horses to watch over Kidd, agreeing that she will go where he offers, at least for a little time, at least until she has learnt what he is like. She is still nervous, of course, not keen to give away too much of herself - though she has little choice in this - but he spoke about Kidd and not about a home. Anyone that puts the filly first is worth a chance, Merope thinks.

It could all go horribly wrong, of course, but at least she can say she tried.

MY HEART, IT WENT WILD

She doesn’t want to appear rude, keeping the girl away from this blue stallion, but she knows what can lurk beneath gentle eyes. She just hopes that it is a while yet before her daughter finds out the same thing.
He steps back while Merope brings her daughter closer, and she finds that she is warming to this stallion, despite her efforts.

Kidd huffs at being told off, even in such a subtle way; she is not - though her name and her mother may say otherwise - a child, and she should be allowed to make her own decisions (one day, she will long to be back under the care of her mother). She is nearly a whole year old, and that should mean that she can investigate anything - anyone - she wants to, even if she is too shy, too nervous to do so most of the time.
But she does as her mother wants, anything to avoid those big brown eyes full of worry and a hint of disappointment.

But she wants to go with this stallion, when he offers - she has waited for so long (nearly a whole year) for someone to protect her and her mother, for her mother often seems so disinterested in protecting herself. And so this big brave stallion, their knight in blue armour, maybe he is the answer; he is offering them both his home, and Kidd can barely control herself.
“Yes, please!” bursts from her lips, and as soon as the words hit the air the filly is cowering away, away from her mother, away from Chessur. She shouldn’t have spoken so quickly, she might make her mother upset - it has happened before, Kidd’s overexcitement ruining the chance of a home (but that stallion was only interested in one thing, her mother said, though the girl doesn’t know what that one thing was).

But Merope laughs, lightly, a flash of worry dancing in her eyes that is gone as quickly as it arrived. Her daughter may be easy to please but so was she, at that age. “I th-think you kn-kn-know the an-ans-answer to th-that,” she stutters softly, smiling gently.
Somewhere to live, somewhere for the pair of them to be safe together. Maybe there will be children Kidd’s age, and mothers that Merope can befriend - she needs some parenting tips, for certain.
She looks at Chessur, then to her daughter, her smile stretching. “B-But I think y-y-you’ll be br-bright enough any-anyway.” She laughs again, amazed at how easy the sound is.
She thinks this might be what happiness feels like. It’s been so long she can barely remember.