theres an old man sitting on a throne thats saying...
What was it about the horses here and their add ons? First it was Ryan and his color changing and cat shifting (which was pretty damn cool, now that she had gotten used to it), and then her own brother, Amet, with his new scales, and now here comes this big shot with the wings and the flying and all of the winged-flyingness.
She was watching the horse long before it landed; hunkered down in the brush like a cat ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. She could tell even from her skewed vantage point that the winged horse was large, much larger than her and roughly the same size as Him.
Impressively, the bay touched down from the bright autumn sky more gracefully than Iset had ever managed to take a step, and she didn’t have to switch between land and air. As soon as the stranger’s hooves touched the ground, his scent caught the breeze and Iset knew immediately that he was a stallion.
Yipee.
Her favorite.
The age old mask of defense slid over her young face, and the chestnut filly pinned her ears flat to her head. After all her fun and games with Amet in the lake, she was surprised at how quickly her old self had taken over and her need to protect herself had resurfaced.
The deep whinny the bay horse sounded off idn’t seem ominous, but after all if she had learned one thing in her short lifetime it was that looks can be deceiving. Deciding it would do her well to confront the problem (aka the stallion) rather than hide from it, Iset crept from the bushes, her ears still pulled back tightly. Pulling her chin up and shoulders back to make her look as tall as possible, she approached the newcomer. “Can I help you?” she bit out, attempting to show her irritation with a strange stallion in her home and trying to make herself appear older than her year in the same curt sentence.
...I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut