01-30-2016, 03:11 PM
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.
MEROPE
i wasn't expecting that.