Her gaze on the sea has shifted a bit from the rapt concern that it had been a moment ago. She’s not being chased. No one is pursuing her-- not yet. If they were, Mirage had enough of a lead. She had enough of a lead that they would take some time, take some smarts, to find her. The spotted mare had done enough to hide herself away, or at least, she hoped. It would take time to recover, to gather the strength back in her head. Her body healed faster than her mind, after all. An escape like hers? Legendary. It was only right that she took her time.
Recovery was something foreign to the mare. Down time? Never any down time. Things had moved so quickly, so frequently, before. Hell, maybe she’d even find respite here in the Islands, a land that was so desperately unknown to both her and those who would likely come in later pursuit. There’s no real way for her to know where she’s landed, but she knows it’s safer than what she’s left. That’s what mattered. Anywhere not there was relative safety.
He was noisy. Mirage could only assume that it was intentional, though she doesn’t look away from the sea. She acknowledged him with a swivel of her ears, and moments later, a returned nicker of her own. It’s not until he reaches out that Mirage pulls her gaze from the horizon. He’s… strange looking, with his stripes and all, but not unpleasant. Mirage tipped her muzzle toward the man, meeting him halfway. Did you enjoy your swim? The question elicits a giggle from the champagne mare.
“Honestly, I’m just glad it’s over.” With a flick of her tail and a tilt of her head, the mare studies him. “Can you tell me where I’ve landed?” Her tone is neutral, but her voice is soft. There’s a gentle curiosity to the mare. Mirage was grateful, honestly, that the stallion beside her was a stranger. Strangers were safer than what she’d left. Strangers didn’t know where she’d gone running from, or why she’d thrown herself into the sea. There was safety in anonymity.
Mirage’s posture was carefully composed relaxation-- not truly at ease. She was doing her best to come off that way, and to the untrained eye, they looked the same. At least the spotted mare had her confidence to rest on. That was enough, right? Confident in her own skin. She was enough.
we’re dressed in black from head to toe
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