Common

"SPEECH"
A stranger, the strange mare realizes. A stranger was coming toward her, and she’s… not sold on that. Too big, too dark, too fast. A greeting, but Eliza’s ears flicker backwards. Eyes go wide. No. "Not big on strangers touching me, thanks," the step she takes back is large. No, no that simply would not do. Her tone was light, not unfriendly or unpleasant, but it’s clear that she’s not pleased in any way by the act.

Eliza does not return the greeting, carefully pulling away. Her gaze is measured, but she’s trying to hide something-- fear. The other mare is too large, too dense, and imposing too far on her space. Usually happy go lucky, Eliza is not a fan of such intimidation. Tactics like this… well, she’d claim they didn’t work on her. Truthfully? Who wouldn’t be intimidated. Vasilissa, she calls herself, is too big. Eliza’s pulse quickened. If her fight or flight kicked in, she knew which she’d choose.

A man. He’s even taller, but his demeanor differs. A haven from the intrusion of the strange, pushy woman. Subconsciously, Eliza steps toward him. As he reaches, the painted lady meets him halfway. The contact is brief but friendly. Strangers touching her was a no go, but okay on her own terms. Her eyes flicker between him and the black draft. "Eliza." Her voice is soft, tentative. There is a very slight nod to her head-- she would prefer that, yes. She isn’t sure she has a choice at the moment, but for how, Eliza is still shivering from the cold.