Common

Tweren’t that she thought herself above the laws of a land - but she had been living outside them for so long that the thought had not occurred to her that she’d be accosted as the rumors of this place had accused. The first who had come to her here had taken her on her own will and without threat of teeth raking across tender skin. She is therefore completely enamored of her new companion - who was quite amiable despite her waltzing in uninvited to strike up conversation.

Though she came from behind the mare, she was clearly spotted, and her introduction is treated like the friendly overture it was meant to be. "That we do! I’m Charlotte. Of course I wouldn’t mind you keeping me company." She is delighted, of course, to be so received - but her delight is short lived. Her friend looks quizzical for a moment and then, she realizes, she should perhaps have been more on guard - or at least not piled the treasure of them so high by acquainting herself with an equal beauty.

That was not arrogance, either. Only knowledge of her own worth. She was four years old and it would be a lie to say she wasn’t often complimented on her appearance. She kept clean, she kept tidy, she was healthy, and her color caught even her own eye if she happened to pass anything reflective simply because she shone like the sun.

She should have heard the nicker and looked, but so many were meeting one another around them that she hadn’t thought a second about the sound -- until teeth gripped a pinch into her hide, no matter how gentle, and she instinctively returned the pain with a kick and sharp squeal of discomfited irritation. Her ears are instantly into her sunbleached mane, a sight almost unheard of from those who might have known her nature. But then she had, again, never been so accosted before.

His step away not withstanding, she did not withhold the lashing out of her hoof and it is unsure if he had stepped far enough to have remained unscathed, but she does press her nose into the shoulder of her new friend in thanks for her verbal defiance and implied support. "I’m sorry to be so hasty, but I had to hurry before another stallion sees the beauty before me."

"A poet once said ‘wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast’. I am quite, at this moment, of his mind about it." She said, her flesh where his teeth had pinched shivering in discomfort. Her eyes tell him just how his she was prepared to be, but again, she did not believe herself above a law. The actions of her other golden companion spoke to the legality of his claim. "The beauty before you could have been won in freedom, rather than stolen for captivity." His politeness, it would seem, was reserved instead for Charlotte.

"Had to make an entrance, did you?"

"Sorry to barge in on your conversation miss. I am Ironclad de Warsaw. General of the Shore and soon to be leader of the Inlet."

The distaste in Charlotte’s voice responded to by the nonchalance in this Ironclad’s voice makes Chalice glad of the subtle sidestep of her new friend into her own side. It made her braver. "I am Chalice, though that will mean nothing to you of importance despite how badly I now wish it were the opposite." Her brilliance did not dim, even in her anger, but the affect of that emotion on her surrounding atmosphere made things a little less like the balmy and gentle summer meant for basking and a little more like that hard gleam of unbearable brightness that comes when the sun knows there is drought in the land and it’s rays can do it’s worst.

"You say you are future heir of the Inlet… I have to say that I prefer your father’s predecessor’s methods over his sons. As for a General - do you have such idle time as to go accosting young women? Does your demesne not have greater matters than padding your personal chambers with those who have no purpose there?"