Tolerable? The strangely colored stallion had not rushed at her with snapping teeth and striking hooves. Even if he had the means to claim her, own her, or anything else; he was doing a much nicer job of it. Mae was not as naive as the stallion thought her to be, or innocent. It was her travels upon the mainland that had taught her to see a bad situation when it was presented to her. So far, Mae did not think she needed to be fearful as he hadn’t even moved to touch her.
“I was born on Atlantis.” Mae offered in reply. “But I was still young when my mother took me to the mainlands.” She finished. The swim had been difficult, and the nearly white filly had almost drowned on the excursion. But when she had survived, Alika had told her the many tails of her homeland to help her sleep at night. It was a comfort when they had been surrounded by so many uncertainties.
“I suppose you want me to join you, Rafe of the Badlands?” Mae asked, though her face does not twist with doubt or anger. She still remains as pleasantly warm as she had been when he had first approached. Mae cannot remember the name of the stallion who had once ruled the Badlands, or any on Salem, from her mother’s stories. But she doubted he would know them anyways. “I’ve had a long swim to get here, but if you allow me to rest, I will go with you to see what Salem has to offer.” The mare said. She doubted she would have a choice in the matter if he really wanted to push it. But the thought of trying to drown again, like when she was young, did not seem appealing.
mare | mutt | cremello | 15.2hh | frost
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