Daybreak always afforded her a better lease on life. There is nothing quite as relieving as watching the sun come up after a sleepless night. Perhaps that's what made her confident enough to approach another equine after weeks of tearing through the wilderness, broken down like an abandoned child. Perhaps the bright sparkling orange of the sun on the tall grass is what kept her from turning and running away from the approaching two-toned mare.
The newcomer didn't seem phased by Romi's abrupt greeting--one she regretted the moment it exited her mouth. Had she no tact? Regardless, she stopped in her tracks as the femme moved towards her, allowing her a respectful amount of space in which they could speak.
"Malka," she repeated, trying to find herself after a stint of loneliness, during which she had apparently managed to lose all social niceties. "Pleasure to meet you." Remembering herself, she gave a quick nod of her dainty grey head, only to flick her dark forelock, thin but long, out from its position blown back around her ears. She did a quick recon on the mare, noting her painted pattern, which would have not been unusual if it were not accompanied by a number of other odd markings and a certain mystical air.
Realizing she had been staring, she stammered out an introduction. "My name is Romantic Pretense, though I vastly prefer Romi." Don't even get her started on her given name--her family had always been the kind to live outside their means, right down to naming their children ridiculous, pretentious names. Her parents would call her nothing short of Romantic Pretense--Venus was the one who had given her the nickname. It pained Romi to even say the name, but she didn't think she could ever give it up, even if it meant hearing the other mare's shrill laugh every time it was used. "Romantic Pretense?" she had chimed nearly two years ago. "I'm the damn princess and even my father wasn't so silver-tongued upon naming me." Their names for each other, Romi and V, told of their child-like love. Romantic Pretense and Venus were never meant to be.
The thought made her want to throw herself to the ground--her typical reaction to memories of what was now her past life. She brought her mind back to the kind mare before her.
"I was only hoping you could tell me where I am."
Romantic Pretense
Where does the good go?