Right now, Cryil is a whole lot of woman. The tall mare's slender frame is swollen with fast approaching motherhood. Her painted hide seems to stretch and move when paired with the uncoordinated stride over the frosted lands. Spring was not coming soon enough.
When the large skull is lowers, incisors clipping away at the bits of grass, she catches his voice. Poll lifts to look in the direction of Njenyi. With a heaving sigh, Cryil is lifting the limbs to close in the space that separates the mare from her stallion.
Her painted form appears not long after the striped male summons the herd. Before her is a fetching golden woman at his side. Cryil proceeds to near Njenyi and gently tug at his own mane before flicking a green eye at him in a playful glare. Her attention turns to the other woman and she dips her head in greeting. "I'm Cryil. Welcome." The pregnant woman stands aside the stallion as she listens for the other's reply.
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