Instantaneously the mare’s eyes changed and he could almost see her assumptions as they formed within her cold gaze. Exhaustion wrote itself across her features and Arithmetic wondered what could have been the cause of such a change. His boredom yawned. The last stranger he’d met had been a fiery personality that had left him unusually drained. He’d hoped that this mare would be a welcome distraction. Instead, her sudden disinterest met him like a sudden stiffening and he was almost tempted to continue on his way. That is, until she spoke.
Her woods? Surely not. What were the odds of him stumbling upon the queen of Sylva. He could almost have laughed at the irony. The idea that one single horse could rule over such a large expanse of nature was highly entertaining. It was his personal belief that such a feat was impossible. Trees bowed to no one.
”I beg your pardon, m’lady,” He said with a spark of sarcasm. ”I did not know I was in the presence of royalty, for it I had I would have knelt before your greatness.”
This Sabra held herself above him, that much was made plain. Such an attitude was not unfamiliar to him. Similarly, he’d been met by other leaders. Such an attitude rarely inspired his loyalty. He smiled a secret smile and looked at her more closely. Oh, she was beautiful a face she was well aware of, no doubt. Untainted by the cruelty of the world, her purity shone through the pale of her coat. He would have gladly enjoyed the pleasure she could offer him, but it appeared to him that she’d already been spoiled by another. The sticky sweet smell of milk radiated from her and he flinched involuntarily. She was a mother.
Gazing around her, he searched for any sign of a colt. Gladly, there was none. He had never been the fatherly type. The antics of children tested his patience. At least she was free from her burden. For now.
@[Sabra] Don't worry. He's got plenty of sass too.