Common

The air is chilly, but not cold. This was the type of weather that Jaci lived for. It reminds her of the near constant climate on the mountain top where she had been born. Although the sunshine there could make you warm, and maybe even sweat if you found yourself napping in a particularly sunny spot, the air itself was never hot, there was always a briskness to it. And so as breath falls from her nostrils and becomes visible once warm air from her lungs hits the chilled air of autumn in the commons, Jaci cannot help but smile and giggling internally. Funny, even when she laughs inside her mind, it still sounds like that tinkling bells on the riverside.

She is not frightened when he approaches her. Maybe if she had grown up any where besides with her loving and adoring family she would have been cautious, though still not frightened of any stranger, for it just wasn't her nature. But Jaci had never learned to fear a strange face, so therefore, she smiles brightly the snow angel does as a lopsided grin grows on his dark lips.

At his comment, Jaci certainly would have blushed if she could, though her cheeks do grow warm under his kind words. “Well, why thank you, kind sir,” she says as she dips her head and attempts to cross her hind legs in a sort of curtsy, but ultimately, she ends up tangling herself up and her rump falls to the ground as she lets loose an ‘oof’ of surprise before smile and laughing, the tinkling sound filling the common area once more as Jaci brushes off her fall as easy as someone brushes a snowflake off their shoulder.

The girl made of moonlight rises, smile touching her lips like foam floating on the sea. “Whoops,” she says, entirely open about her social faux pas, unaware that she ought to be embarrassed after such a blunder. He says his name and twin peaks of ivory press forward amidst her locks of freshly fallen snow, catching every syllable that ushers passed dark lips into the crisp air that only the colorful autumn can possess. “Shamwari,” Jaci repeats softly before bringing her muzzle forward to meet his and inhaling the breath he provides while responding with her own sweet exhale. Briefly, in a touch that could rival the lightness of butterfly wings or the brush of an eyelash, her own pink muzzle meets his before she draws back slowly, smile never slipping from her gentle features.

“I am sort of from around here,” she responds, unsure of how to phrase her answer. “I traveled from the mountains and then I lived with Orkaan in the inlet, until,” she pauses. “Umm,” she falters once more, realizing she has never actually admitted to the two-toned stallion’s disappearance out loud. “He disappeared,” she finishes, baby blue eyes moving away from Shamwari’s for a moment as her smile falters on pink lips. Blue eyes then stare up at the stallion once more. “I don't think he is coming back.”