“Yes,” Dickere smiled as she nodded her head, “Myself and my sister, Dock, are Lyden’s. Our other sister Hickere is under Braylen.” It was nice that the three had been able to remain together; some small positive in this strange, new place with its differed customs. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Azazel.” Dickere said, kindly.
Stepping toward the dark mare Dickere extended her paisley pink muzzle, bumping it softly against the other and blowing a warm huff of breath. Pleasantries aside she tucked her skull back, neck arched and graceful. Azazel began walking forward and Dickere turned her head, an ear turning to follow the hoof falls of the mare, softly crunching in the sand. She didn’t make it far before she turned her head to invite Dickere along with her and Dickere was more than happy to comply. Smiling graciously she gave a nod of her dished face. “I would like that.”
Stepping up so she could walk beside Azazel, Dickere took a moment to appreciate the current weather. The rains had come as autumn stretched into the late months. “Does it snow here?” She asked with curious wondering. “I’ve never seen snow.” Dropping her brown eyes back down to her current walking partner, she asked a question she’d been wondering. “Have you lived in the forest long with Lyden?”
of the forest
black sabino [aa Ee n/Sb1], fourteen.three hands, half-arabian filly, two years old, played by pirate |