He pulls away as soon as she asks her question, but Djinni doesn’t look away from the trickling water. Djinni has done exactly as he’d asked, and she’s entirely sure she’ll get the answer she expects.
But she doesn’t.
Instead she gets Stillwater in front of her, blocking her previous point of focus and forcing her to look at him. For a moment, she avoids it, hiding behind the shelter of her frosted forelock. But if she’s not going to disappear, she might as well face him, and she puts it behind her ears with a toss of her head. The gentle jingling of her ringed ears are a momentary distraction, but Djinni eventually meets his gaze, her chin raised slightly still (whether a remnant of her head toss or in an effort to make herself seem less uncertain, it is not clear) to look into his cool blue-grey eyes.
She is glad Ivar has her eyes, she decides just then. She would not want to see Stillwater each time she looks at their son, not if this conversation is any indication of their relationship.
The black stallion does not give her an answer; only another question. Djinni frowns, her displeasure a contrast to his dull eyes as he steps away. The grullo mare doesn’t follow, but she does keep her eyes on his. Does she wonder if he’ll attack her again? Yes. The real question should have been: what will she do when he does? Will she let him? Again?
Djinni does not have the answer to that.
He asks another question even when she doesn’t answer, and the answer seems so ridiculous easy that she almost laughs. She doesn’t, but the scowl on her face is replaced by something that’s almost amused.
“Do you think I can’t protect them myself?” She asks in return; a cyclical continuance of what seems to be their standard method of interaction. No one says anything, not anything of real substance, and she’s only ever left feeling frustrated at the end.
“I can, you know.” She says, answering her own question with a rather decisive nod of her head.
“You’re the only thing keeping yourself here.” She adds, because it never occurs to her that he wouldn’t have tested the power of the chain around his ankle on a daily basis. Hadn’t he felt it weaken when she’d decided she wanted him here? Hadn’t he known?
“But if you’re having trouble remembering…” She glances down, and the anklet disappears.
“Go, now. If you really want to.” Djinni turns, putting distance between them and making the way out of the cave clear. Her mane falls across her eyes again, and this time she doesn’t shake it away. She’d rather not watch him leave.