[open] cause I'm so dope and you're a fiend

[Famkee]

He laughs at her berating, though the sarcasm is short lived, as the flat rather tired look on his face returns, save for the quirked brow that made the pensive hold in her shoulders relax just a bit more. Though wether or not she makes it worse, she continues with a careless, yet inviting grin. "You want privacy, yet you rest your head in the open." Famkee briefly absorbs her surroundings again like she wants him to realize the magnitude of his stupidity, before returning to the studs grayish gaze. They resemble clouds on a rainy day, something this place needs more of. "It's not as empty as you'd think." There's hoof prints everywhere in fact, the scent of others faint but still gracing the outskirts of the breeze that plays with the soft tendrils of her mane. He has to be just shy of discovering this place, it would make sense but how he could be so foolish in his awareness? He looks weakened, the stallion's legs nearly shake under his weight, lids still heavy with sleep. He reminds her of herself in these passing moments, when she'd arrived she wasn't much different, yet the sympathy just didn't stick. He isn't shy about the enthrallment of her horn, simultaneously making her want to threaten it's capabilities, or rather shrivel under the bewilderment. It's strange having him look at her this way, something she'd thought so normal. 

What could be normal about taking a life. She'd taken many on that day her home was destroyed, nothing but a fragmented memory living in the gutters of her mind. She lives with it every day, like a bloody stain calcified on her soul. You were defending yourself, they were trying to rape you, use you, eradicate all that you knew and loved. Poisonous thoughts are better left shoved for later,  she wants to ask, she doesn't care to really, but for some reason curiosity is teetering on the edge of killing the cat. She gives a glance upwards, gesturing to her weapon crowned upon her head. "Have you ever seen a horned equine?" The innocence in her voice dares to appear, baffled at how he studies the protrusion. Her childhood was spent with equines of the sea, sky and earth, seeing his reaction to such a ordinary accessory has Famkee wondering just how long he's been alone, or just how sheltered he'd been. She can see it in his eyes, and again she's reminded of herself, lost in the throes of the past, chained and tightly held by it's leathery claws. It's a bitch to get rid of, and Famkee's gaze softens as the stallion introduces himself with a bow that makes her mirror his slight smirk, though she doesn't return the favor of offering her title. 'what are you doing out here all alone?' She wants to laugh at that, and she does, a small airy giggle that's disbelieving of his words. If only he knew how long she'd been alone, searching, waiting, dying on the inside, rotting. "I could ask you the same." Her voice is soft, taunting under her breath. "Where do you travel from? You're obviously not a local." And would be little help to her, she thinks. But what information she might could squeeze, keeps the mare stationary, at least for a little while. Golden eyes peer deeper, scrutinizing in their depth as she takes another step or two closer. There's something endearing about his naiveté, it's a hook in her cheek that she couldn't quite escape if she tried.

if my heart is in your hands will i die

Famkee

@Hackjob