Romantica
She is a delicate thing. Curves soft and flashing green eyes with dark lashes that sweep over them. Her steps are precise like a prima ballerina as they thud softly against the newly frozen ground of an early autumn. The cools winds tug at her long tail and braids it with unseen fingers against her flank.
The sounds of hooves beat like a soldier's drum, steady and familiar as she looks to see who the keeper of the tune was. A creamy silver male with pale eyes approaches with a bit of mischief and a lazy smile that crosses his lips haphazardly. Romy finds it charming as she watches how he is a bit clumsy with his tongue, struggling to make words that would delight her. His wings are pretty things painted with a porcelain brush as he keeps them folded to his spine. Romy shares his height and can easily see the way the feathers interlace.
"The crowd, yes." The glittering emerald of her eyes rotate as she gives a slight look to the others, paying little to no mind before looking back to her fair companion. "I'm Romantica. Nice to meet you." The woman offers her own small smile, the edges of her lips lifting in a curl as the early autumn sun caresses the slight rose tint of her dappled hide. Romy shivers a bit from the chill as she has not grown her winter coat. Her face turns away for another moment to observe some mares huddled together in conversation like nuns praying.