She’d left home hours ago. The timing could have been better, but maybe it was for dramatic effect. The woman had thrown herself into the sea with a sort of abandon that was only seen by someone who was leaving something behind in the most romaticized way. She’d romanticize her own life until things started going her way. There’s something whimsical about the way she’d done it… until it started getting later. That’s when the worry set in.
Grace shivers in the winter chill. It was dusk as she makes landfall in the Common, and she’s realizing that this may have been an error. She sighs, taking a moment to shake the excess water from her gleaming coat. Well! At least she’s clean. The woman’s guard is up as she moves onto the rocky portion of shoreline.
With a bright gaze, the girl takes in the Common itself. It would be night soon. The cold was already settling into her bones. Fear is the wrong word, but worry is fitting. She lets go a quiet nicker, calling out but not too much. Grace moved inland, her gait a timeless elegance. Her head was high. She’s elegant, even if she’s still drying from her swim.
It was tiring, a swim that long. Another call resonates from her throat, just as quietly as the first. Was there anyone out here? Grace could hope. Grace could dream. For now, it was all Grace could do to wait.
14.2 hh. classic champagne leopard. 4. knabstrupper x saddlebred.
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