02-11-2022, 01:43 AM
In the middle of grazing, there was a rapid shift in the wind; Reyla's senses were on alert, and she looked around cautiously, at first not seeing anything. She finished chewing the grass in her mouth, her elegant ears pricked and tapered nostrils flared; was there a scent? The smell of a predator? A shiver went through her bones; no danger, but there was something nearby. What was it?
Her question was answered when a mare's voice came from behind. Had it not been for her injury, Reyla would have spun with impressive speed, but as it was, she balanced her weight on her right leg and pivoted around, so she could face the stranger. The voice hadn't sounded hostile, so Reyla had no reason to show the stranger her heels. That instinct was reserved for fighting predators should the circumstances arise. Which, luckily, they hadn't so far. She'd prefer to keep it that way.
The mare that had come to greet Reyla was a very pretty white color, almost unnaturally so. Even one of Reyla's former herd members couldn't match it. This mare didn't seem to have a speck of dirt on her either. Her mane and tail matched her coat, thick and elegant, with a long forelock that could no doubt cover one of her eyes. Speaking of, Reyla was struck by their color, for they reminded her of the endless sky she'd often stare at when lost in a daydream. Her legs were thin in stature, but carried her weight easily. A strange red mark was on one leg, but Reyla didn't have a name for that shape. Her head was shaped with grace, with a small groove between her muzzle and eyes. That shape reminded Reyla of a horse in her herd, an Arabian, the stallion had told of himself, but his facial groove had been much more pronounced. This mare, perhaps she only shared half of a pedigree like the stallion? Her dam had once told her such things were possible.
Had Reyla taken the time to examine the mare a bit closer, she may have seen the feature that said mare kept pressed against her sides, but considering they matched her coat color as well, Reyla did not notice. Instead, after her brief examination, she focuses on the mare's posture and attitude; she was relaxed, her head held high, but not in a way that told Reyla she was on alert or arrogant. Her muscles were not bunched under her skin; she did not sense any danger nearby. This helped reassure Reyla, and she lowered her own head, into a much more natural position that relieved the muscles in her neck.
The mare introduces herself, by a very pretty name; Casimira. Reyla wondered what it meant; it must have a meaning. However, nothing about the name sounds familiar to her, or at least not to the language used in her homeland. As she looks at the mare, Reyla silently wonders if it means 'queen'; this mare is certainly regal and strong enough to be one. Casimira's gaze then drifts away from Reyla's face, and the filly's eyes follow; she figures out the mare is looking at her leg, the injured one.
She tries to put a little more weight on it, and succeeds, but remains careful nonetheless. She nods curtly, "I must have cut it on a sharp rock when I went into the water during that storm. But I don't know; the last thing I recall before I woke up here was being tired from fighting the waves, and I went under the water when a big wave came and washed away my travel mates and the trees we were using to carry us across the ocean."
She smiles sheepishly, "I'm Reyla. It's nice to meet you Casimira. Where is here by the way? Nothing about this land seems familiar. It doesn't seem like my homeland anyway; I saw a cat that had spots on it that looked like they were as big as its head. They didn't look like that where I'm from. Is this land very big? Are there a lot of places to explore? Where do you live? Do you have a herd too?"
Reyla often didn't notice when she began rambling; if she asked something that got her to think, she got excited, and when she was excited, she talked A LOT. Hopefully this mare didn't mind Reyla's chatterbox attitude; she still had some mellowing out to do as she got older.
Her question was answered when a mare's voice came from behind. Had it not been for her injury, Reyla would have spun with impressive speed, but as it was, she balanced her weight on her right leg and pivoted around, so she could face the stranger. The voice hadn't sounded hostile, so Reyla had no reason to show the stranger her heels. That instinct was reserved for fighting predators should the circumstances arise. Which, luckily, they hadn't so far. She'd prefer to keep it that way.
The mare that had come to greet Reyla was a very pretty white color, almost unnaturally so. Even one of Reyla's former herd members couldn't match it. This mare didn't seem to have a speck of dirt on her either. Her mane and tail matched her coat, thick and elegant, with a long forelock that could no doubt cover one of her eyes. Speaking of, Reyla was struck by their color, for they reminded her of the endless sky she'd often stare at when lost in a daydream. Her legs were thin in stature, but carried her weight easily. A strange red mark was on one leg, but Reyla didn't have a name for that shape. Her head was shaped with grace, with a small groove between her muzzle and eyes. That shape reminded Reyla of a horse in her herd, an Arabian, the stallion had told of himself, but his facial groove had been much more pronounced. This mare, perhaps she only shared half of a pedigree like the stallion? Her dam had once told her such things were possible.
Had Reyla taken the time to examine the mare a bit closer, she may have seen the feature that said mare kept pressed against her sides, but considering they matched her coat color as well, Reyla did not notice. Instead, after her brief examination, she focuses on the mare's posture and attitude; she was relaxed, her head held high, but not in a way that told Reyla she was on alert or arrogant. Her muscles were not bunched under her skin; she did not sense any danger nearby. This helped reassure Reyla, and she lowered her own head, into a much more natural position that relieved the muscles in her neck.
The mare introduces herself, by a very pretty name; Casimira. Reyla wondered what it meant; it must have a meaning. However, nothing about the name sounds familiar to her, or at least not to the language used in her homeland. As she looks at the mare, Reyla silently wonders if it means 'queen'; this mare is certainly regal and strong enough to be one. Casimira's gaze then drifts away from Reyla's face, and the filly's eyes follow; she figures out the mare is looking at her leg, the injured one.
She tries to put a little more weight on it, and succeeds, but remains careful nonetheless. She nods curtly, "I must have cut it on a sharp rock when I went into the water during that storm. But I don't know; the last thing I recall before I woke up here was being tired from fighting the waves, and I went under the water when a big wave came and washed away my travel mates and the trees we were using to carry us across the ocean."
She smiles sheepishly, "I'm Reyla. It's nice to meet you Casimira. Where is here by the way? Nothing about this land seems familiar. It doesn't seem like my homeland anyway; I saw a cat that had spots on it that looked like they were as big as its head. They didn't look like that where I'm from. Is this land very big? Are there a lot of places to explore? Where do you live? Do you have a herd too?"
Reyla often didn't notice when she began rambling; if she asked something that got her to think, she got excited, and when she was excited, she talked A LOT. Hopefully this mare didn't mind Reyla's chatterbox attitude; she still had some mellowing out to do as she got older.
~*~*~*~*~*~
@Casimira I don't mind one bit; I thought it was great writing. Thanks for coming to greet me; so happy to be here!