there was something in the water, now that something's in me
i can't go back, but the reeds are growing out of my fingertips
When the spotted mare replies, it is so quietly that Texas is forced to turn away from his lackadaisical ponderance of the Field and focus on her entirely. With his dark ears pointed toward her, he listens to her reply and is unable to keep a smile from his grizzled mouth. “You’ve must not have been here long, if you think you’ve found solitude,” he says with a low laugh, gesturing out at the milling horses in the wider field. “You’re just hidden well; you’ll be swarmed once they see you.” Texas doesn’t mean that strictly as flattery, though he would not be bothered if she interprets it as such.
The kingdoms and herds of Beqanna are always looking for new members, and a horse alone in the Field will rarely stay alone for long.
He recognizes the smell of the Amazons before he sees the mare, and when he turns his dark head he is almost surprised to see that it is not Prague coming toward them, but rather a black mare that he’s never seen before. They’ve stopped wearing their tattoos, but she’s unmistakably a resident of the Jungle. A shame, he thinks as he takes her in, she’s too pretty to rot away in the Jungle. “Hello Naga.” He replies, offering a nod that is perfectly polite and nothing more.
“How long were you planning on staying in the Field?” he asks Elendil, turning his brown-eyed gaze back to the red and white mare. He doesn’t rush to offer her another alternative, though he imagines that she would like the quiet Falls with their lack of bustle and frantic energy that is the lifeblood of so many of the kingdoms. He can also offer a kingdom that is not poised for war, unlike Naga, but while Elendil does nto sound or seem like the bloodthirsty type, he’d rather not make assumptions and protect her from chaos she might desire.
texas
