bottom of the deep blue sea
The river's current splits and froths gentle around the joints of her legs. She seemed to be mesmerized by how the small, pale bubbles grow and fall in the gathering for foam. The autumn is peaceful and uninterrupted except for the occasional drift of voices over the surface of the water. Isobell does not notice the sounds as it is all nearly lost by the rapids that were just down river.A dappled man draped in mist and fog, drifts close, haunting the edge of the river with his lingering eyes and odd air. Isobell has hardly notices till he is close to the curve of her hip. A silver eye flickers like liquid mercury over the sharp curve of a strong jawline and moving over the roll of a shoulder and following the mountains and valleys of his masculine make up. Isobell is quiet a moment as her gaze returns to the smokey man as her own stance has become rigid.
Moments pass, a beat of their hearts then another, before Isobell smooths her features into the curl of a smirk. "Not at all." The word form and fall from her dark lips in a feminine pitch. If the stallion should prove malicious, Iso would drag him beneath the water till he moved no more (though that is not her ideal autumn afternoon). She observes how he slips into the still warm waters, easy and practiced. It would be nice to have some company.
Pewter eyes watch how he drinks the river water greedily. He must have traveled far to reach the place he now stood. "I'm Isobell." She offers once he lifts his head. The kelpie mare, with her pretty moonstone and obsidian scales, once knew many faces in Beqanna but time has eluded her and now there are many strangers. She is blessed to remain an eternal beauty, due to the nature of her kelpie origin, and thus finds it easy to talk to strange men in rivers (at least now she can't be drowned...again).
@Whitter