It was going to be a fight, then. Adrenaline coursed hot in her veins and though there was a faint veil of annoyance that the stallion did not run the way she’d wanted to drive him, Mariael was overall pleased he chose to stand his ground. It took characters of great strength to flourish in Tinuvel and a while a coward bowing to her might stroke her ego, she knew they’d have little luck surviving the winter on her island. So when the dapple stallion squealed and charged forward, a light brightened sharp in Mariael’s eyes and she pulled up her head, veering to the left to give him clearance to pass her, arching in a half-circle and pulling up her legs to charge him down.
She could see him running in front of her and she trailed him, skin warm and lather dampening her neck and armpits. Her ears were pinned back, her overall figure one of dominance and aggression, gathering all her energy to close the gap between them but maintaining a wariness of his back hooves in case he decided to slow and give her a kick.
She’d trail him wherever he decided to go, but if he made for the Lagoon she’d do her best to cut him off, not interested in any plea he might make to the other bachelor stallions. She’d come after him because he was alone and she was determined to keep it that way. He would slow eventually, or pull up for a fight, and Mariael would be ready with whatever he so chose. If he wanted to stop and talk, they could do so, but she wasn’t going to let him get away.
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