Her sudden outburst of laughter cut through the silence of the forest like a knife. Tensing he glanced back at her and watched as she slowly began to recover her wits. For a moment he wondered what thoughts could illicit such an unexpected reaction – perhaps she just found him that entertaining? Her walls were breaking down and her demeanor made a sudden harsh shift.
Curious, he traced his eyes along the length of her. Drinking in every marking, every scar – memorizing. This mare was beautiful in her purity. There was hardly a single flaw upon the pale ivory of her complexion. It was a marvel. She stood with a stiff formality, holding her in such a way as if to proclaim her status to those who beheld her. The woman’s confidence was almost alluring in a way.
As she spoke, his interest lifted once again. Child or no, she stood before him unburdened and, by the sound of her words, longing for a moment’s distraction. He was all too happy to oblige.
”My name is Arithmetic,” he revealed. ”But you may call me Ari.”
His was a name he’d given himself. His own mother hadn’t bothered herself with the task before her disinterest carried her away from him. As a two-year-old he’d begun referring to himself thusly, deciding that it was a huge improvement to ‘runt’ or ‘boy’.
The stallions in the bachelor herd had raised him to be tough and had taught him how to take care of himself. Soon, he’d learned that even their company had grown stale. Ever restless he could never find himself lingering in a single place for two long.
His mother’s parting curse, he supposed.
He wasn’t ashamed to claim that he maintained a few of his mother’s attributes. From what he remembered of her, she had been a beautiful mare. Wiley and flirtatious. Everywhere she went she turned heads of even the most devoted stallion.
”Tell me, queen Sabra,” he teased gently. ”What brings you to the outskirts of your land?”
Though she’d claimed to see herself no higher than the average horse, he could not resist the opportunity to poke fun at her position. He wondered what she would say if she knew the disdain he held for the kingdoms and their democracies. Most of them had fought hard to get to the place that they sat, but some were descendants from the earliest kings and queens. He wondered which was her story.
@[Sabra] I am so sorry that this took me so long to get out! Forgive me?