Common

as I wandered the forest, the green leaves among, i heard a wild flower singing a song

petal is no stranger to the hungry look that settles in the eyes the iron painted stallion. the familiarity of it, jittery and sour, wells up in her throat before she swallows it back down with firm resolve. though she is unsettled, it is difficult to see any outward display, her body rigid with willpower, her eyes flinty, every muscle poised. she appreciates the work of her friend, if that is what you could call so new an acquaintance, to draw away the attention and take the lead in the situation. for all her iron will and worldly knowledge, the petite cream mare is not accustomed to much conversation.

she watches, the blue eyes drinking in the language both bodies around her emit, realizing just as much as nova that the stallion has something to hide. her ears, a darker bronze swivel from their roost in the deep russet crown of mane at her poll to catch the words they exchange and she hopes, despite the good intentions of her female compadre that the other mare hasn’t pushed the stallion too hard. she admires nova’s bravery but petal is used to subtlety, a language she has always been fluent in. the obvious display of distaste by the larger mare surprises her and she can only hope nova knows she may be playing with a fire neither of them can put out.

she softens her posture, hoping to appear a little more at ease and speaks freely, her voice again strong but quiet, ever the reflection on her being as a whole.

now nova, what will he think of us if we carry on like this? surely we should be more welcoming to our new friend?… at this she turns to speak directly to the stallion… although, of course she is right that we are both fortunate to have homes to return to….i am petal. you seem quite the gentleman indeed. i’m sure your sister is lucky to have you.

she hopes she hasn’t offended the other mare, not wishing to upstage her or mock her by any means…she merely knows that the easiest way, certainly not the bravest or toughest, to avoid conflict with a character such as the one they are dealing with, is to play into their idea, to soothe the ego…she hopes the stallion catches her firmness when she indicates that they are both unavailable to follow him to his home and that nova doesn’t mind her own attempt to lighten the conversation. she can’t help but remember the very different meeting she had here with shamwari here when she had first arrived to the islands. he had nothing to hide, no smoke, no mirrors, and still had remained the upmost gentleman. even the gentle trace of his lips on her skin as he claimed her was only for her benefit. the striking contrast between the two stallions had her wondering if she had been all wrong for leaving him in the first place. if anything, this interaction has only strengthened her resolve to embrace her new friendship with the smokey black mare and to take her up on her offer to accompany her back to the prairie.

p e t a l

mare : 5 : perlino dun : arabian mustang mutt : 13.3 : kafkaesque

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