FIRESTORM △
The stallion made his approach clear, and then in a confident, and rather bold act, advanced upon her without any indication that she was receptive to his company.
What was he thinking?
The red mare lifts her head, threads of fibrous grass hanging from her maw as she chews, not bothering with any sort of manners when he offers his ashen nose to her own. His whiskers brush her own, and she can feel the heat of his breath intimately puffing against her. She drinks in his scent (or what little she can make of it) before snorting it out. He introduces himself, and Firestorm, being the absolute vixen she was, displayed dismissive behavior by way of turning and offering her rump. However, by the way a single eye peeked out from her hip while she returned to her task of grazing, this was not an invitation. It was a warning.
She was more than capable of speaking, she simply chose not to. Instead, the sassy little mare interested in seeing just how he might react to being ignored. He had done little to show her that he had any sort of authority -- so why should she give him any ounce of respect?
RED ROAN / 14 HANDS / MUSTANG / MARE / PLAYED BY GLORY |