She is never unaware of her surroundings – she is her only protection, and has been in the real wilds enough to know that a lack of awareness is a death sentence. So it is easy to track the lioness’ progress through the Field, even when she is hidden by legs or long grasses. After all, it may be Beqanna, but equines are unsettled by big cats anywhere, and so they move away from her. Some are startled, frightened, some merely move to stay out of the way, but they do move.
But while she is tracking the progress of the threat, she is also observing the approach of the dark colored mare, with strange eyes bright even from a distance, and she doesn’t actually put eyes on the feline until she is already close – too close for Sloene to get away, even if she chose the flight half of the flight-or-fight coin. The grulla mare tenses, silver eyes flickering towards the mare but settling quickly back on the feline because the threatening noise coming from the white lioness takes her way up the list of Sloene’s priority list than the quiet black mare.
And then the lioness is a mare. Sloene blinks, takes a deep breath as the girl-not-cat speaks to her, and allows herself to relax muscle by muscle. “Just as long as you’re not planning to eat us,” she responds, friendly voice betraying none of the anxiety her body had telegraphed. Now she can afford to look around, look back at the black mare, and she offers both mares a calm smile. “I’m Sloene,” the little mare says, the friendly smile staying put on her face because she knows it’s the part she is expected to play here; at least, it’s the part that Celeana is expecting her to play. Another look at the silent black mare tells her that the second mare isn’t looking for the same things.
But the black mare should be able to see the game, if she’s really looking for something else. And if not, the friendly supplicant seeking a new home should work for both of them.