A sneer curls at Margot’s lips as she stamps a hoof in frustration. The little mare can sense how uncomfortable she’s made Eddie; and she gets a sick satisfaction that she has kept him in place despite it. Even if his lingering comes with such an egregious insult. To say that she does not care for love? A high-pitched laugh escapes against her will, colored by indignation and anger. To even suggest that she does not understand love, preposterous. Margot snorts.
“I said I wasn’t going to take it from you, didn’t I, Eddie?” she jeers, the prim smile she wore so easily before melting off her face.
In fact, Margot is so enraged that she picks up a pebble with her mind and flings it at the stallion’s head. The expression on her face is almost childlike, as if she is holding in a wild tantrum. She just simply cannot believe anyone would ever, ever say something so offensive to her face! So ridiculous and unfounded! What does this Eddie truly know of her?
As many things go for Margot, that offense she feels twists into a vengeance much darker than any insult could be. She calms in the blink of an eye, taking a deep breath before pasting another smile on her face. She blinks and reaches out to the sea creature, touching his love but only taking a tiny bit—a minuscule amount, a taste, enough to remember—so she might never forget him. So that she might find him again all the more easily. Perhaps he doesn’t notice the nibble she takes, perhaps he does.
She doesn’t care.
She’ll find him again.
“Oh, keep pissing me off, Eddie,” she pauses, dramatic, “and I’ll take everything from you.”
@eddie