It’s not about what you want. Not anymore. Miriella made an indignant sound in her throat, rolling her eyes at the stallion, attitude firmly in place to mask the fear (and excitement) coursing through her veins. The stallion spoke further and everything he said was true; Miriella was too young to understand how to begin to argue back. In truth, too, this was what she’d wanted. As frightened as she was, Miriella felt more alive than she had her entire life. Finally there was someone she could lash out at, that would lash back at her. A large, handsome stallion that some part of her wanted to put her body up against, skin against skin, and drive him even crazier for her.
The large stallion rushed her again and this time Miriella’s pale hooves scrambled over the ground, picked themselves up and did as he bade. Even if her slender ears lay flat in her pale mane and her blue eyes flashed furiously at him, Miriella still lifted her tail off her hind and trotted off in the direction he pushed. Her heart was racing, skin flushed hot. She rocked her weight forward, faltering her steps so she could kick out at him again, one final act of defiance. That’s all it was though, was an act.
She was his.
He was hers.
(ooc: sorry it's a little short! I figure if you'd like we can continue it where he's taking her and they could get to know one another there?)
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