Let's just say that, despite all his curiosity, he really sucks at paying attention. So it is as much a surprise to him as it was entirely expected to her that she brings him up short. He halts in mid-stride, skidding a bit as he does so, wide amber gaze swinging around to find the owner of the childlike voice.
Childlike because it is, in fact, a child. Very near the same age as he.
He hadn't expected to run across another foal in the meadow, much less one that strikes him as familiar (though that familiarity completely escapes him at this particular moment). Tilting his head, he studies her a bit, lips pursed in thoughtfulness.
The meadow. Well, that makes sense. And is equally as intriguing. But not nearly as much so as this little girl who seems to know him. A very rude little girl, he might add. Narrowing his eyes, he considers her a bit longer. Not just rude, grumpy (though the fact that he is likely being quite rude too escapes him as well).
”How do you know who I am?” Though belied by the words, his tone is less suspicious and more curious than anything. ”And who says I'm lost?”
He pause a moment as another realization strikes, causing his light brown eyes to narrow even further. ”How do you know where I live? Who are you?” Another brief pause. ”Are you a spy?”
The last is said with the barest hint of excitement. Well, for a boy his age, the prospect of a spy is quite exciting. Though he really has no idea why anyone would be spying on him.
