Common

The pallid minx moves across the Commons with a stealth, hoping she doesn't catch the gaze of anyone around. It would be a precarious predicament if she was to be caught off guard and claimed. Nesta hurries on her hooves, placing her feet strategically to not draw the attention of another. The move is a far-off glow in the sky; dawn is still hours away. The late Summer air is humid but a breeze floats by her, teasing her skin like a sensual kiss.
She's just cresting the edge of the Commons when her carefully placed feet do the inevitable: snap a twig. She groans inwardly. "Shit," she mutters. A quick look around looks like she may be in the clear, so she quickly resumes her brisk trot refusing to waste any more time in this horrid place. Her skin starts to prickle, and something tells her she is being watched. She refuses to acknowledge the sensation, but warning bells continue to play in the back of her mind. Her ears flick furiously atop her crown as her pale blue eyes dart around her searching.
But she doesn't notice the other equine until it's almost too late and they almost collide under the mid summer moon.