As the stallion spoke, warning her against being too comfortable even in her own home, the filly’s brow furrowed. The way he talked, it was almost as though he was suggesting that he was the threat she should be wary of, but as her eyes roamed his face, studying him and attempting to read the subtleties of his body language, Jetta simply could not see him as a threat.
This was not merely because she was an optimist, preferring to see the good in all - no, the yearling could be pragmatic when she so desired, and she was confident that no strange stallion, no matter how impure his intentions, could not outrun her across the steep hills or rickety ledges. She knew where the secrets paths were, which places to avoid putting her weight on, and even the location of a few sheltering caves. If ever she was in danger in her own home, and had none of the big peak mares to defend her, Jetta knew she could take care of herself.
Not that that was even necessary knowledge for her, given what her mother had hammered into her head from the day she was born.
“The peak is the safest place in all the isles,” she parroted what Inka had said a hundred times, and tilted her head to offer the strange stallion a wry smile. “Unless you’re a trespasser. Impazienza is smart and nice and all, but she can be grumpy, and it’s her job to keep trespassers out. If she finds you, she might chase you... or even keep you as a prisoner.” Her eyes widened for dramatic purposes, and one ear twisted back.
“Unless...” she looked away briefly, pretending to consider something. “I told her you were cool. Are you cool, mister stallion?” Her eyes drifted back to his, searching.
J E T T A
friesian mix; EE Aa nSpl; one; 16’1 wfg |