Oh, it's one of these. She'd been offered a place in a band before (if you read 'offered' as 'given little choice of'), but the experience hadn't been entirely unpleasant. Archam's smile is kind but familiar, the typical plated offering of a place beneath a tall, strong dude and his harem of women. The realization of their offers slowly bleeds onto the forest filly's sloping features, pink-flushed nares flexing quietly in thought. Chem's silence does wonders for the image of quiet expectation he's most definitely trying to get across, and though the young Napoleon in her wants to challenge him with a front of her chest and a snort, Valaera can only raise her chin higher, a glimmer of hazel plucky pep sparking through her eyes.
The initial hesitant response to Archam is swallowed up by Chem's sudden interruption, his broad voice an obvious command of power. Archam was older, and Chem was... well, he was certainly Chem, and Valaena felt her eyes flicker toward his approaching figure without a chance to stop herself, ears fluttering depsite her best effort. He's big, and though her friendly nature bids her reach forward and touch her infinitely smaller and gently-sloping muzzle to his, the otherwise hidden intentions of men and their fancies have her slender shoulders run tense. What could this possibly mean? She hadn't necessarily been in the market for a home, but if this was the way they advertised themselves...
A shudder ripples down her flank at the black stallion's sudden whisper, his voice hoarse and a fairytale novel's perfect baritone, all manly and musky and bwuh. One ear twitches between the gauzy white of her mane, her gaze resting on both Chem and Archam, striped hooves teetering gently in the soft, green grass. Were these yes or no questions? Was this just what her choice was - old and knightly, or younger and bold? A new mare emerges from the hoard of perfumed women, and with the sudden lash of the lady's tail, Valaera figured her answers made.
Orrr not. Her tired eyes struggled to flash with energy as Celeana made her intruductions, perking forward at the sound of her name in someone else's mouth. Before she can give pleasantries back, though, Celeana asks the damning question — are you suited for? Whether it was herd life or a sisterhood, Valaera knew she was quite possibly the absolute best at everything, thank you. (She'd never been in one of either, but how hard could it be?)
"I really wasn't looking for anywhere when I came here, y'know," she finally manages to get out, youthful impatience her greatest negative, and with a small flicker of her tail between her thighs the forest filly glances between each face, lips pressing together. "But that doesn't mean I'm not capable. If there's a rank I can fill or some ladder I can climb, I'm always down, but-" She turns her gaze on Chem then, a young girl's challenge threading through the bright green-brown of her eyes. "I've known jungles and creeks — what do you mean by a village?" Come on then; if they're all here betting for her favor, or whatever they're doing, shouldn't he be putting in a little more effort?
@[Archam] @[Chemdog] @[Celeana]