Fire in the Mountain [OPEN]

[Iset]

The pride that she feels at having concealed herself for so long, especially from one so focused, unfurls and spirals deep in her belly, and Iset doesn’t even attempt to hide the smile that begins to curl on her lips. She watches him as she speaks, noting every little movement his eyes make as they travel over her body-eyes that, she could now see were split in color, one being a dark brown and the other a blood red. He stays silent for a while before dropping his head, lowering more to her level and reducing the gap between them while still leaving some space.  His voice is full and husky, much different than any other colt she had yet heard speak. Slim ears pricked forward in curiosity and her eyes narrowed at the switch she saw in his eyes. This boy was mean, and if he wanted to play? Oh, she could play.  She scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes at his pompous words, “You may want to be careful,” she mockingly warns him, “Even cats have claws,” she knows instantly that the downfall of this horse would be his ultimate underestimation of someone he perceived to be smaller, weaker than him.   Before she knew it, the light that had seemed to die down in the foliage below them rose again, flying slowly towards her. Though every instinct in her body told her to run, lest she get burned, the stubborn filly refused to waver and kept her flashing golden eyes on his, fighting the urge to watch in awe as the flames culminated above her head. She can feel the heat bouncing off of the top of her head, but again she doesn’t flinch. She had had much practice of this sort of thing in the Dunes; holding eye contact with Him, until he finally realized that he would not break her that day and he would turn and leave them be. For a while, at least.  He speaks again then, questioning what it is that makes her special, what she can do. The question catches her momentarily off guard, but she hides it well and her momentary lapse does not make it to her eyes. The heat touching her brow suddenly recedes, and though she wants nothing more to follow and track it with her eyes, she is determined to win this staring contest. The warmth reappears then, the flames now licking at her sides.  She smirks at his haughty question, “For one, my name is Iset. Not filly. Secondly, I, unlike yourself, don’t need to hide behind fire, or anything else for that matter. That is what makes me special,” she drops her voice to a whisper, as though her words will sink in better the quieter she speaks them, “I, unlike some, am not a coward. Tell me this, without your fire, what makes you special?” she demands, throwing his question back at him with a sarcastic grin resting her face.  She takes a step toward him, closing the remainder of the small distance between them, before Iset raises her head and brings the pair eye to eye.  there's an old man sitting on the throne thats saying isetI should probably keep my pretty mouth shut