silver rings and gypsy bells; loken

[Maribel]

i was born in the arms of imaginary friends,
free to roam; made a home out of everywhere i've been.

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He startles her enough to make her jump. An unbeknownst to her, the palomino blushes (all over!) from a soft pink to a blazing red. Her blue eys dance when the roan boy speaks. His voice is a low tenor, not quite baritone like that of her father. "Oh...M-Maribel." The mare-child stammers before her coat blends back to the honey yellow of her usual color. She laughs gently, shyly. "It's nice to meet you Loken."

A small smile blooms across her lips as she innocently enough stretches towards him, scenting him as she has often seen the adults do. He smells like a blend of wild flowers and cedar. The baby blue pools gaze as her smile grows. Her own parents had not ever discussed boys to her. In fact, Offspring was rather protective of the girl and would probably disapprove of her outing without any escort. But Mari shakes away the thoughts with the simple toss of her head. "Where are you from, Loken?" She asks him softly, easing towards him. The girl is gentle, naive. This was the first boy to talk to her outside of the Tundra and her father's watchful eye.

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@[Loken]