And so she owes him nothing. Not a name, not an explanation, not a breath. But she finds herself offering her name and then the wetness of her sliding tongue churn out more words with a relief of satisfaction. A smile touches the edges of her lark lips in procession to the syllables. Blue-green eyes watch as the stallion summons a great power from the icy depths of the sleeping Beqanna. She cannot help but side step a bit as the cold peaks nearly wall them in.
Holiday would like to think he has no ill intentions to wards her. She has not yet earned them. The sooty gold mare watches with a slightly slack jaw in awe of the magic he controls, how he bends and wills the frigid peaks to meet his every whim. "Well now, that is not something I have seen before." The antlered woman can not help but to laugh, though it was slightly tattered with nervousness, but mostly amusement.
"The Tundra, you say?" She tastes the name, thinking for a moment, "I believe I have heard it in passing." She nods thoughtfully before tossing the dark forelock on either side of her eyes so she may better see her new companion. "I come from no where, well no where has yet captivated me long enough for me to call home, so I roam the bountiful knolls of the meadow." She gives him a play smirk before looking over a shoulder at the frozen solid grounds, the summer grasses long dead. "How positively enchanting." Sarcasm drips from her tongue as Holiday returns her gaze to the rich mahogany male as the edges of her lips remain curled.
Yes, it felt good to owe one another nothing. It felt good to have an enchanting conversation with a perfectly lovely stranger while fat white snowflakes slowly pedal their way down to land with small -pfts- on their manes and backs.
Perfectly lovely indeed.
