you are a craving I can never satisfy
His face is evidently as foreign as his forewarning scent that had wafted into her nostrils. He is quiet in his approach, soft-spoken steps that transform into a tall and broad built stallion with a vibrant chestnut coat. The epitome of health.
A new face to her, surely.
A comparison arises before she has the chance to dismiss it, the familiar build of Kalil and his similar stature and approach. A diplomatic one. She momentarily loses herself in the thought of his equally warm voice and welcoming nature.
It almost makes her want to hate them both. As if maybe anger will cover the feeling of guilt that daringly seeps down her neck and across her spine. The knowledge of her voluntarily (though temporary) leave, her decision to see Kalil when her brain cleared perhaps the most fatal decision she could have made. Now everyone seems to have vanished.
Replaced with another stallion to do the welcoming, the soothing, the diplomatic roles.
Yes, she will hate them both. It feels better.
Her ears begin to pin—perhaps they do, she isn’t sure—a meek threat but a mask to cover the anxiety that grips at her throat before a familiar face graces her. Owin. Her memory is hazy for him, but the sound of her name craddled in his voice rings and brings a warmth across her chest.
“Owin,” she breathes and nods in effort to recognize but also thank him, as if his presence saved her from the self-sabotage that beckoned at her door. “A familiar face indeed.”
Her attention returns to the chestnut stallion, the anger towards him for being blindly alike to the heart and soul of Taiga having dissolved with the presence of her fellow friend. Though she hesitates; strangers had never been in her favour.
“Rocky,” she repeats slowly but surely as if to remember his name, “welcome to Taiga, and thank you for greeting me.” Her caution obvious, like Brine she had never been good at bluffing.
Born for war, not for diplomacy.
“I a ‘breath of fresh air’?” A laugh escapes her, a noise that felt so alien and unfamiliar she pauses to catch her air, “that hardly sounds daunting. Surely Aten has held the Taigan’s together?”
She doesn’t dare comment on the absence of Lilliana or Kalil; sometimes ignorance is bliss. A hard lesson our darling doe had learned only a year ago.
Ruthless
@[Castile] @[Owin]