The spots are not what she is looking for, but they are similar enough that Djinni’s breath catches in her throat. She blinks her pale eyes and swallows, the sensation of hope squashed in an instant. It is just a black stallion freckled with white; she does know better than to wish otherwise.
The grullo mare nearly moves on, but the spotted stallion’s jerky movement keeps her attention. He stumbles into nearby horses (not her, she is too far away where she stands by the lake) and seems to be favoring a leg. Kindness is not one of her larger personality traits, but she is always curious, and the lanky stallion is certainly a curiosity. She would have been content to watch him from a distance, but then he seems to be coming closer, and she sidesteps a bit. Uncertain.
No, she realizes, he’s coming for the lake. She does move to the side this time, giving him enough space so that he’ll avoid knocking into her the way that he has a few other horses on his hobbling way over. She can smell the salt on him and it reminds her of the sea. He is not Nerinian though, that much is clear. She cannot imagine Nayl letting someone so discombobulated leave the shore without assistance or guidance.
The mid-autumn sun is still warm enough to keep her comfortable, and it shines off her well-kept grullo coat. Djinni looks nothing like the spotted stallion, from her pied coat to her graceful movements as she steps a bit closer at last.
“You look a bit lost,” she says as she steps closer, her voice rough but her smile bright. “Can I help you with anything?”
slim build
smokey grullo tobiano
sea green eyes