Gale’s explanation that the grass here is different has Mazikeen rolling her eyes as she grins. “Oh it’s special grass, okay.” She’s not sure she believes this claim from her new friend at all and allows her skepticism to leech into her teasing words. Grass was grass, wasn’t it? Whether it was in the meadow or on a tropical island?
While she’s looking at the sky, she’s sure she can feel his eyes on her like a physical touch tracing wherever they land. It’s as pleasant as it is confusing - she thought a bit of space would’ve helped her heart to calm down again. Her wounded shoulder twitches a little and she brings her gaze back down to him when she hears her concern about the sun echoed in his words. Although everyone probably felt the same way - she appreciates the creation of more common ground between them.
Where’s the mare that had lost several days as a lion immediately after the Alliance because she was so overcome with rage? Sure, it was disgust at herself more than it was at him - but blaming him had been easier, it had been welcome. She’s been looking for that anger and coming up empty. There is a fire that laces across her skin when she feels his gaze on her, but it's not connected to the hurricane of rage she had assumed would rise up. It's something else entirely.
Her earlier words ring in her head - he is not what she expected, and she’s glad for it.
And then, the mention of him coming to Hyaline, Mazikeen nods with enthusiasm - liking this idea, of sharing her home with him in return. “I could give you a tour. We only have boring green grass, I’m afraid, but we’ve got a pet sea monster. Her bark is worse than her bite, though.” Just thinking about Sabal’s reaction to being described in such a way brings out a small chuckle before Maze continues. “I did hear the Champion there used to hate your guts but she’s…” Her voice catches and she clears it with a short cough. If Mazikeen knew how to be bashful, she might look away - but her orange eyes remain steadily on Gale as something shifts in her smile. The humour fades from it and leaves only warmth. “... she’s starting to come around, I think.”
@[Gale]