"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
A light mist cascaded over the terrain due to the early hour of the morning, bathing the majestic valley in a blanket of fog that masked the creatures who knew how to blend in. One such creature was like many others here, but at the same time, unique, for the young one had seen the residents of the valley and knew she was different than some.
The loud cawing of a raven broke through the silence that echoed through the mist, slowly dispelling as the sun rose into the sky. As the fog began to dissipate, the valley revealed itself to those looking down from the sky. Instead of lush grass, the once beautiful place was covered in a thick blanket of white snow, concealing the earth beneath and making it difficult for the horses who lived here to find food. Some still made an effort by using their hooves to paw and clear away the snow, munching at any bland supply of food they could find.
A few of the horses in each cluster glanced up as they heard the large beat of wings above them, clearly wondering what could be so loud if not a bird. Seeing something they no doubt had before, they returned to searching for their food, leaving the creature that had passed to it's own devices.
The young filly that had flown over the group of horses just now snorted in disbelief, surprised they hadn't been more taken aback by seeing a horse like her. Nalia, like the horses below, sported a set of four hooves and lean, athletic build that well-suited a filly her age, reflecting the effort she'd made to stay alive to this point in time. But one feature in particular, if not her paint markings or dun leg stripes, made Nalia stand out like a sore hoof.
Blended into her back as easily as a bird's wings were the young filly's own, much larger pair, the downy feathers much like those of the birds and matching the light black shading of her coat. The majestic tools of flight were fully spread out as the filly glided over the valley, drawing the gazes of some while others completely ignored her. After some time, Nalia stopped caring, content with being able to soar through the sky with all the freedom she could desire.
The sun was a good distance into the sky by the time that Nalia decided to journey down into the valley herself, wanting to see if she could integrate into one of the cliques of mares. Folding her wings in, the mare dive-bombed down to the ground before opening them in an impressive display, halting her descent with all the power of a big cat pouncing on its prey. Rapidly flapping her wings to slow herself down, the filly's hooves softly touched the ground, snow surrounding her hooves up to her pasterns. Folding her wings in, the filly gave her head and neck a good shake, a light sheen of sweat covering her from the exertion of the flight.
Calmly walking in the direction of the other horses, Nalia kept her head low, her ears up, eyes focused on the others in front of her. When she got close enough, a couple of the other horses looked up to see who was approaching, losing interest and going back to searching for grass. Taking this as a sign that she was okay to get closer, Nalia took another few steps in their direction. At first, all seemed okay, until she was within a few feet and one of the other horses looked up at her again. Nalia stopped, her eyes wary, her posture tensing up to let the other horse know she was watching her.
For a moment, the two horses just stared at one another, before the other mare pawed at the ground, snaking her head a few times. Knowing this sign, Nalia took a couple steps back, knowing she wasn't wanted. The filly turned away and approached some of the other groups, only to achieve the same result.
Heaving a sigh of disappointment, knowing what the main reason would be for the other mares to act so defensive, Nalia walked away from the other horses and in the direction of the large waterfall she had seen while flying overhead. Since she chose to walk, it took a bit longer, but Nalia enjoyed the silence as she journeyed closer to the powerful force of nature. Upon arriving, the fatigued filly lowered her sculpted head and took a long drink, relishing in how the cool water relieved the parched sensation in her throat.
Lifting her head, a couple drops of water falling off her chin, Nalia twitched her bottom lip as her eyes glazed over the filly's reflection in the water. Although she wouldn't admit it, the young one was a rather pretty creature, but the filly's eyes always drifted to the wings on her back, silently wondering if all those years ago, they had been the true reason for her ostracizing from her herd. Of course, she hadn't stuck around long enough to find out, not after that stallion announced his true intentions.
Her thirst quenched for the time being, Nalia walked away from the waterfall so that she could have better hearing in case any creatures tried to sneak up on her while she set to work on her next task. Copying the mares out further in the field, the filly lifted one of her white-colored legs and started pawing at the snow in an effort to reveal the earth underneath. After some time, she managed to find the food beneath, and though the taste wasn't excellent, it was enough to keep the hunger in her belly at bay.
Nalia nibbled on the few small bites of grass her undertaking revealed before repeating the process a couple of times in an effort to find more food. Though her ears were up and about the listen for any creature approaching, the instinct to satisfy her hunger was largely occupying the young filly's brain. Her dam had warned her about letting such a thing happen, but even though many of her life lessons lingered in the back of the filly's mind, when driven, hunger was quite a powerful instinct...
OOC: Nalia is free to be approached by a representative from one of the kingdoms, or be claimed by a stallion.
And there's a lesson waiting to be learned the firestarters always get the burns and the good guys never get the girl
She’d gone out early today, which meant walking through the river’s land until she reached the shore. By then, the mist had been burned away by the sun, promising another bright winter day. With a smile, the white woman had taken off on her sunshine wings - made indeed from the light, they could not be used in mist, twilight or other forms of even the slightest darkness. She could still use them with a few clouds in the air, but not if they were getting too many, her wings would falter then. It was still something that she needed to get used to, a lot, because it had been pretty recent that she had lost her feathers for the wings made of light. But she was managing pretty well - she’d ever been such an adaptive woman, hadn’t she?
The sea’s water reflected the light where she crossed, as did the snow when she made it to the field. Not unlike back home, she mused. It was fortunate that she only needed sunlight, not the sun’s heat, to fly, so that she did not have to wait until spring and summer to cross Beqanna as quickly as she was used to before.
Her white, rounded Andalusian figure and sunshine-made wings reflected the snow when she landed, causing a few horses who’d looked up to see who was coming, to turn their eyes. She frowned a bit, and folded them back as best as she could. Although she still sported some kind of halo with the light source on her back, at least others would be able to talk to her without having to constantly look away now.
With a smile, she took in her surroundings from her spot near the sea. Lots of different, small herds were present, temporarily hugging together for the warmth. Ilma always wondered why such horses (mares mostly) didn’t just find a kingdom to join, but perhaps they just didn’t want to mingle with the politics. Yet - Hyaline wasn’t a land for mingling itself with others either, the way she saw it. A neutral mountain land to welcome refugees should not interfere with other horses’ wars, should it? But perhaps they were just scared. One could never know what went on in another’s head if they did not want to talk.
With a shrug, she settled on walking towards a water source. A habit maybe, but a well-based one. Everyone had to drink some water, even those that were on their own, and the Ambassador of the mountain kingdom had flown far enough herself to need a drink, too.
Taking a few sips from the almost-freezing water, slowly, a sip at the time like she was used to in the mountains where the glaciers and snow would chill the lake even worse than this stream could ever be, she lifted her head now and then to listen in to what others were saying, and take in the scents that passed by on the wind. She picked up a murmur of one young girl trying to get into an already existing group. Probably some old cranky lady, Ilma thought with a snort. She tried to ignore them talking, but when she had sated most of her thirst, she followed the scent of a young mare who appeared to be on her own indeed. If she was indeed looking for company, she might be a willing conversation partner, or even a potential recruit.
So, it wasn’t too long until she spotted the filly, almost a mare - Ilma smiled, she sported pegasus wings like she herself used to have, and she reminded her a bit of her son with those colours. Entering with a slow trot, she approached and nickered warmly. ”Hello there. Would you mind some company?” she asked. It might not be the same one that the elder mares had complained about, but she still looked like she wasn’t doing extremely well on her own, and she would be welcome in Hyaline to spend the winter within a kingdom even if she did not want to linger around come spring.
and shooting stars cannot fix the world
@[Nalia]
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
07-08-2018, 11:24 AM (This post was last modified: 07-08-2018, 12:18 PM by Arithmetic.)
Freed from solitude and bathed in snowfall, he found the field without much struggle. It was her scent that called to him with the promise of a familiar face. More than that, curiosity quickened his step. She was near, the breeze offering him the sweetness of her perfume. Overhead he searched the grey and white clouds for the sign of her familiar alabaster figure. Black against the white washed blue stood out in sharp contrast, continuing his search. Admittedly he did not know his intention beyond her prolonged torture. Nearly a year ago she had gifted him with the gift of release - one that brought with it a son. The child bore his resemblance, but not much else.
Veering slightly to the right he broke through the veil of naked trees and into the large expanse of the field. Purposefully he pushed forward, his grullo coat dampened by the touch of snow. The frost would not aid in his search, he knew, her own coat matching the tint of it nearly perfectly. Relying solely on his nose he followed the trail, his eyes landing on her familiar figure almost instantly. There she stood beside a painted mare similar in color to himself. She was pretty, if he was allowed to think such thoughts.
Edging closer he smiled devilishly, Ilma's voice drifted to tickle his lobes. Polite as always, he noted. If he remembered correctly it was such an attitude that had led to his advantages. Curving around from behind her, he drew up beside the unknown mare, his eyes quickly connecting with the pale mare's.
"My, my," he crooned his eyes hungrily traversing along the curves of her figure. Beauty was all the interest she held for him. Shifting his attention to her companion he greeted her with a far more friendly expression. "Who is your friend?"
07-08-2018, 12:43 PM (This post was last modified: 07-08-2018, 12:44 PM by Nalia.)
The drift of the winter wind against Nalia's delicate small ears brought with it the whisper of a voice, so silent but near enough that the young filly had no trouble picking it up once she figured out what it was. The hunger in her belly had not yet been satisfied, but the urge to see who had approached overpowered and forced her to lift her head to get a better look.
The one who had come close was a new arrival, not one from the many groups Nalia had tried to get close to not too long ago. The mare sported a crystal white coat, very much like the blanket of snow surrounding the two horses' hooves. Her mane and tail were just bright, her face being the only real spot to show any differentiation of color. She was close enough that Nalia could see her eyes were a bright molten orange, a term for that lingering in Nalia's mind. She would call it honey, but it was a few shades darker, and for some reason, a word she had learned long ago, amber, came to mind.
The mare also sported some darkening in her coat around her nose, but other than that, no flaw in her snow-like appearance could be seen.
The one feature that took Nalia by surprise, and that was saying a lot, was the pair of wings that sprouted from the mare's back. Unlike Nalia's own, which bore more resemblance to a bird's feathered pair, the mare's reflected with the light of the sun, as if they were the undisturbed surface of a lake that showed one's reflection. They shone with a bright light to them, and Nalia wished to ask exactly what those wings were made of or how they worked.
But she didn't want to overstep her boundaries, considering the mare had greeted her in such a polite fashion. Nalia swallowed the blades of grass hanging from her chin before tipping her nose toward her neck, a small bow to signal a greeting to this new arrival. The filly's wings twitched, for she could never hold them incredibly still for long, as she spoke to officially greet the mare.
"Not in the slightest," she replied, offering the mare a friendly smile. This new one seemed like a pleasant, friendly enough creature, and the fact that her stance was relaxed led Nalia to believe she would not show her open hostility for the time being. The filly herself relaxed her tense posture, her tail dropping so that it was no longer slightly pressed against her hindquarters to express her caution. Her ears were forward and eyes bright, reflecting her understanding and calm nature.
All of which immediately disappeared when the presence of another was detected.
Without warning, another horse appeared beside Nalia, drawing a surprised snort from the filly. She immediately swung her hindquarters around so that she was facing him dead-on, not wanting to expose herself in case he had some sort of plan. Nalia was not angered by his arrival, but moreso at herself, for twice allowing unknown creatures to appear nearby without sensing them.
Were her dam's warnings starting to fade, even after all this time she had lived by them to keep herself and her former friends alive?
Since she had moved away, Nalia missed the stallion's eyes gazing over the form of the white mare, but did not miss picking up on them when he turned his head to gaze at the filly. He questioned who Nalia was, moreso directing it at the white mare based on how he phrased it. The filly's eyes glanced over him quickly, trying to pick up on signs of hostility. Surprisingly, she found none, though her gut told her that there was something she needed to be wary of around this older stallion.
He was taller than both mares by a few inches at least, sporting a coat much like Nalia's own, but without the white paint spots. His legs were draped in the zebra markings Nalia's had, along with a dorsal stipe and dark muzzle. Nalia had a blaze on her, but the skin around it was outlined in a darker shade than the rest of her face. If it wasn't for Nalia's other markings, the two could be mistaken for relatives.
In response to his question, Nalia offered, "This friend would appreciate a little something called personal space, thank you." The filly was usually polite, but didn't like it when others intruded upon her so easily. Her ears were slightly tilted back, showing she was cautious right now, but her eyes were relaxed, showing she would be willing to listen to what he had to say.
And there's a lesson waiting to be learned the firestarters always get the burns and the good guys never get the girl
Outwardly, Ilma was the same white pegasus she’d always been, save for the change in wing type. Inwardly... something different, of which the black dun male was the source. She was still an Ambassador, and would behave accordingly to anyone unknown.
So when the painted mare looked at her and her eyes lingered on the light-made wings, she did not mind. Curiosity can’t truly be helped, and she would have been willing to answer any and all questions about them, or about herself, or about the kingdom she hailed from. Ilma’s ever the kind, lady-like mare. Well-presentable, and with a polite if not kind face.
She’s about to say something else to the other mare who’d just dipped her head at her, but she doesn’t get a chance. The painted grulla pegasus reacts the way that Ilma should have a long time ago - for which she makes up now. Ears lie flat on her skull immediately, and she moves the brightness of her wings as if ready to take off - in fact, she would instead use them for that if she had to, but would also hope to temporarily block the man’s view of her new companion. That doesn’t seem necessary, she’s quite capable of moving away from the grulla mustang by herself. Her pose tenses, upper lip curling to show teeth, one forehoof scraping against the snow, voice steel-glad and cold. ”I’m sure she’s not interested in rapists, Arty.” She uses his nickname angrily, spitting it at him, clearly ready to follow it up with an actual bite. Ilma isn’t sure what the other mare makes of this, but at the moment she doesn’t care. He needs to go away. Now. If there’s only one thing good that came off him, it’s that through her mourning, her sadness, and everything, it turned out she is very well capable of holding a grudge, and has found a source for violence in herself she never thought she had. It’s good for him that she doesn’t possess a very damaging trait, because he would not be standing there whole if she had any. ”Now go throw yourself off a cliff or something.” He’s not going to get one-step-closer and walk away unharmed, of that she’s sure.
and shooting stars cannot fix the world
@[Nalia]
@[Arithmetic] She never was the same after what happened, I guess (:
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
07-08-2018, 02:28 PM (This post was last modified: 07-08-2018, 03:05 PM by Arithmetic.)
The atmosphere that surrounded them was cold, in more ways than one. His sudden arrival deadened the blossoming conversation between the two mare's, their hostility greeting him instantly. Their reaction does not surprise him, even though he plays to their amusement. Forced shock twisted his face and sparked a light within the warmth of his gaze. Jumping away from him, it was as if he had pricked Ilma with a sharp prong the way she had moved so quickly. A deep throated chuckle rose from his belly and escaped through his lips. She was jumpier than he remembered, her senses undone in one moment not so long ago. She wondered if she still imagined him there - inside of her.
The mare's sassy comment draws him back to the present, his interest in her suddenly sparked. Grinning apologetically he honored her request and backed away a few steps, ever the gentlemen. "I do apologize, I did not mean to offend. As Ilma so eloquently stated, my name is Arty - or, rather, Arithmetic, if you please."
He shot a menacing glance at Ilma. How she had come to calling him such a horrendous thing he did not know. Her venom was warranted, of course, though why she had chosen that moment to exact her wrath upon him he was not sure. It certainly wasnt very diplomatic of her, he would have expected more from the ambassador of Hyaline. It wasnt too long ago that her smiles had been reserved for him, when she accepted his every advance with enthusiasm. At one time she had even hinted that it had been her desire for him to remain there, in Hyaline, with her. How humorous it all seemed now.
Deliberately he turned towards the ivory creature. She sported a new pair of wings, fortunately for her they added to her appeal. The light eminating from them was very becoming, but there were certain features that their warmth could not diminish. Personality was a huge short coming of hers, perhaps that was why he had chosen to hit it and then quit it.
"I do believe you and I remember things very differently, love." He winked at her. "It may be hard to believe, but looks aren't everything. Call me a rapist all you'd like, stick and stones, sticks and stones. However, I'd be happy to throw if you catch."
She had wanted him, whether she cared to admit it or not. Scathing words and hot tempers did little to inspire a reaction from him. With a flick of his tail he turned his attention back to his new friend. Ilma could carry on all she liked.
Smiling, he rolled his eyes with a dramatic flair. "Please excuse her," he begged. "Lovers' quarrel - or, I should say, ex-lovers."
Arithmetic
I Don't Make Love
@[Nalia] | @[Ilma] Can't control him! Sorry. Not sorry.
Nalia's eyes turned to the white mare when she felt a powerful draft, no doubt from the other spreading out the wings that seemed to be made of the sun's light. The grulla mare took a step back in awe of their might, her own feathered wings fluttering against her sides, her feathers ruffled, before pressing them tightly against her belly.
There was obviously some history between the two, as if the animosity in the mare's words didn't give that away in itself. The white mare's body tensed up several levels, Nalia eyeing how her muscles tightened beneath the ivory skin. The mare's lips curled back to expose her teeth, her rock-hard hooves pawing at the ground in a display of anger rather than similar to Nalia's search for food. The white mare called the stallion a foul word as well as his name before telling him to go throw himself off a cliff, something that took Nalia by surprise.
Clearly, this grudge ran deeper than she originally thought. Nalia herself wasn't new to holding such negative thoughts about another, but how deep did the hatred between these two have to run for them to wish such awful things on each other? Was it a history that Nalia would ever understand? The grulla mare didn't know, and didn't pay attention to it for the time being. Should fate bless her with having the white mare for an actual friend, perhaps she'd pry one day if the opportunity presented itself.
For now, the Pegasus eyed the stallion as mock surprise filled his eyes, offering a mocking apology before officially introducing himself.
Nalia also didn't miss the hated glance he gave the white mare before addressing her, stating she had her memory wrong before making the implication that what she said hadn't hurt him. With every word from the stallion's mouth, directed at the white mare and their history together, Nalia felt her anger toward this older creature growing. However, she kept her outward appearance calm, not wanting to let him know she was onto any trick he might pull.
Arithmetic then turned back to face Nalia, rolling his eyes in a dramatic fashion before uttering a few words that made the history between him and the white mare all too clear. Nalia's eyes brightened in amusement; well that definitely explained things, especially attitude. The grulla filly's nostrils flared a small bit as she twitched her head to brush her forelock out of her eyes, her long silky mane brushing against her dark neck and masking the marred flesh that was underneath.
"Quarrels are not an issue. But stallions that speak in such a manner to mares are. Whatever your history, it is quite rude of you to address her that way," Nalia commented, her eyes dulling as she spoke Arithmetic. She had stepped out of the way of the white mare's wings at this point, feeling that she could protect herself just fine, and not wanting to put her new acquaintance in danger should Arithmetic try to pull something funny.
And there's a lesson waiting to be learned the firestarters always get the burns and the good guys never get the girl
It takes some time for the words to settle in, in her anger. Time in which Arithmetic gets more words in, fake-apologizing to the other mare for Ilma’s behaviour (but clearly he thinks her anger is amusing, and she swallows whatever she was about to yell at him when she realizes that). Luckily, the painted mare is not ready to believe either of them, remaining wary of the stallion.
Ilma fumes. Her eyes glow with the fury of Tephra’s volcanic lava - had she seen it she would have recognized the similarity. But she takes a breath, ready to speak as the other mare chastises Arithmetic for his way of talking. Her ears remain flat into her untangled mane, her anger now not subsided, but channelled into a creepily calm voice. ”You dare,” she says slowly, in a very soft but oh so cold tone, ”call that love?” she hisses.
He hasn’t moved in her direction, so she closes the distance now; she walkes between the two of them, directing herself at the man who’s ruined the last year-and-a-half of her life, circling him slowly while she talks at him. ”You call it love, to sneak into a kingdom, pretend to be a gentlemen looking for settlement, but when I ask of you to stay and wait because I’m not ready for another foal yet, force it unto me? You call it love to breed a mare who asked you no, not yet, and please don’t do this to me? You call it love to smooth talk but never had the intention to stick around after planting a seed?” she finished her second round around his body, right next to his ear. ”Hit and run, you know, that’s what cowards do.” she spits at him with the hiss of fury between her teeth. Her voice turns to a whisper then, changing to her usual warm tones as if soothing him. ”But I guess you already knew that, because it’s your only way of life. Weren’t you planning on trying the same with her, just now? See if she would be willing?” He’d be out of luck today, wasn’t he now?
Her eyes glance at the painted mare apologetically only for a moment - so far for recruiting today. If she was smart she’d avoid the black dun mustang for the rest of her life, but Ilma had a feeling she had already picked up enough for to understand that. Herself, she had been too naive at he time - never would she make that mistake again. The nightmares, the double feeling of raising Llowell, the fear and hiding during the weeks of her last heat - she wouldn’t wish that on anyone - anyone except the cause of her bad dreams, and now that he was here, she’d not let the opportunity fly to tell him exactly how she felt about him. Sticks and stones? At least the other mare would know not to get involved with this guy. But he might not break from one missed opportunity indeed - perhaps she would need to find herself some stones, then.
Ilma wouldn’t be out to break all of his bones, however. Just the one.
and shooting stars cannot fix the world
@[Nalia] too caught up to even introduce herself to Nalia, sorry (:
@[Arithmetic]
Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
07-09-2018, 01:01 PM (This post was last modified: 07-09-2018, 01:11 PM by Arithmetic.)
He could see it. The glistening of rage as it burst from behind his white mistress’ steely gaze. The conversation had turned, he could sense it even before her outburst. Privy to their private squabble the painted mare watched with a placid gaze, her mind doing its best to sort through the flurry of heated words that flew from Ilma’s intolerable maw. She was a sight and he laughed as she threw herself into the heat of her passions. Feet firmly planted in place he tossed his head away from her thrashing wings, flinching as a wad of spit landed upon the roundness of his cheek. She was feistier than he remembered as well. Perhaps he had been wrong – perhaps she had grown some personality while he was away. At the conclusion of her speech the painted grulla decided to throw her opinion into the mix, only further adding to his amusement. Kindly he returned his attention to her, no sign of hostility within his gaze.
“That may be true, love,” he agreed with her perspective to some degree but he also couldn’t help but wonder why she turned a blind eye to the one who had begun the argument in the first place. “Yet, mare’s can spew whatever venom they please? I suppose you would have me gladly accept her attacks without so much of a word spoken against them? Who are you to know the truth from the lies? Do forgive me, I know we have only just met, but I can’t help but feel a tad bit of bias in this instance.” His smile remained ever potent, his eyes glinting with a hint of a tease within their warm pools of green hazel. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I have not yet met a creature who would tolerate being named a rapist in such a manner.”
Bursts of enjoyment coursed through his extremities. He had accomplished all that he had set out to. Finding Ilma with another had been unfortunate, but he was sure her show would offer endless amounts of entertainment to the strange mare. Catching the sound of Ilma’s voice once more he turned to observe the continuance of her glorified temper tantrum. Wrapped up in the technicalities of their entanglement a year ago she was correct in some instances. Love had never played a role in their relationship. He had never claimed otherwise. It had been flirtation alone that had inspired him to move forward and it was only as he did such that the word no ever fell past her pretty lips. Her claims were many, but her evidences were few. Clicking his tongue as her argument drew to a close his eyebrow rose to signal his thoughts deepening.
“You take far too many liberties, darling,” he chastised gently with a toss of his charcoal forelock. “If I remember correctly, Solace knew and approved of my presence there – I do not sneak. I would rather not hold this conversation in the presence of our new friend, however, you appear determined to do so. So I shall entertain your accusations for a moment.” He stepped forward in a nonthreatening manner. Truthfully, he had no intention of violence and his temper and voice remained perfectly even as he spoke. “You seem keen on painting me as an absentee father, claiming me to be a villain among men and, yet, I have never had the pleasure of meeting your eldest daughter’s father. Where is your venom towards him? Is he seen as a "rapist" in your mind as well or just another unfortunate victim of your relentless seduction?”
He was growing tired of her. If she was truthful with herself, she would admit that without him she would have remained the uninteresting, sniveling woman she had been before he had entered her life. Motherhood seemed to be what defined her, it had been one of the first thing Arithmetic had noticed about her. Gifting her with a son had been just that, a kiss goodbye on the cheek. She was merely ungrateful and enjoyed playing the victim. Perhaps that was how she planned on seducing her next rapist.
Stepping away from the white Pegasus he exhaled, his features noticeably more drawn. He remained genuine as he cleared his throat. “Despite what she may say, I was not planning anything beside that of a cordial introduction. It seems however, some of us are incapable of maintaining our good manners. My only hope is that we meet again under different circumstances. In any case, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance…”
His voice trailed off and he chuckled as he realized that she had not been given the opportunity to introduce herself properly.
Despite her caution toward Arithmetic, Nalia, ever the optimist, would listen to what he had to say. She would admit she did not appreciate the stallion's attitude, but he had a good point. Especially considering how Nalia felt watching the white mare's display. Calling the stallion out on his past behavior as she circled him before pulling her lips back and spitting on Arithmetic's cheek. Nalia had seen some actions fueled by hatred, but not like that before.
It made her wonder exactly what she was getting into here. Were other horses this angry toward one another elsewhere in this strange land that had called to Nalia like a dam to her foal?
The white mare continued to chastise Arithmetic, uttering foul words one after another. At the mention of how he may have tried to try on Nalia the same actions he forced on the white mare, the grulla filly almost took a step back, but she knew to show weakness wouldn't be wise right now. Not with the stallion in such obvious control.
Did the white mare not realize the situation she was currently in? The fact that she was allowing her emotions to take such hold of her mind meant that even if she thought she was tougher, the stallion had the upper hoof. He had control over her and she didn't seem to know it.
Arithmetic called Nalia out on what he defined as her 'biased' opinion, something the filly wouldn't deny. She wasn't really on the stallion's side, but she was never one to not hear both sides of the story. Blatantly speaking to him in such a tone would possibly only intrigue him, something Nalia didn't want to happen if she planned on getting him to give her space. Whether a few feet or a few miles, it didn't matter. She couldn't play into his hooves.
The conversation between mare and stallion continued for a few more minutes before Arithmetic took his leave. He didn't turn to go immediately, and Nalia had a feeling he was waiting for something. Blowing air from her nostrils, taking a moment to think, it came to the grulla filly. She turned her milk chocolate eyes to the stallion, her gaze bright but like steel as she spoke to him.
"I am not one to behave, bias, as you say. I have more opinions to express, for each of you, but I feel it'd be smart to hold my tongue right about now," she told him. "Whether we meet sooner or later, it was a... pleasure, to make your acquaintance as well." There was a split second of hesitation in Nalia's words; she was still unsure how soon she wanted to meet him again, if at all. "I go by the name Nalia."
