[private] gold cage; hostage to my feelings; tamlin

[Celina]

She remains all but motionless while she searches for the stranger, only her silver ears flicking back and forth until he finally hears him speak and is able to pinpoint his location. Celina does not like having the wind used against her, and it makes her somewhat more cautious even as she resumes her climb up the bank. The horse there is not one she knows but he seems content to leave her to her meal, which is the way that Celina prefers strangers. So while he grins at her, Celina drops the fish and begins to consume it. This is a messy ordeal, mostly involving ripping it into smaller pieces and tossing her head back to swallow them whole. Through it all, she does her best to maintain eye contact with the winged horse, assuming he does not simply leave her to finish alone. Her eyes flick across his wings and skin, both a rosey shade of fading chestnut. His hair is so thickly twined with greenery that she knows they must grow there with magic. His hooves, what she can see of them, are shiny. Is there more to him, she wonders, recalling her encounter with the splashy buckskin? By the time she’s eaten three-quarters of the catfish, she is beginning to feel uncomfortably full. She considers leaving it, but what if this flower-haired stranger tries to take it? Perhaps it would be wise to not give him the chance at all, Celina thinks. “You can have the rest, if you want.” The dark haired mare tells him, taking a single step away from last of her mangled supper. How close will he come, she wonders? Will he come at all. Her pale face tilts curiously, watching him with unshielded interest. The look is not hungry (not with her belly so full), but it is likely to be uncomfortable intense. @[Tamlin] celina i'm that bad type, make-your-mama-sad type make-your-girlfriend-mad type, might-seduce-your-dad type