"Excuse me? I am no stain!"
It was the squeal of the female rouse that had drawn his attention. Mousey grullo ears twisted in the direction the words had come from. Curiosity prickled at the young stallion, and it made the skin along his shoulders and flank crinkle. It didn't take much these days for the male to stick his nose in places it didn't belong. Today was a glowing example.
The tovero, having decided to do just that, turned and went deliberately toward the voices. His ears strained forward as he went. The low voice of who he assumed to be another stallion was hardly audible until he got closer. The mare, however, was not hard to hear at all. Tribulation could hear her more clearly now as he rounded a stand of trees.
"It is NONE of your damn business." The words drip from her mouth in angered tones. The grullo doesn't hesitate for a second to sidle up next to the pretty bay mare as the black draft speaks about lying not being a good color for her. He gives her a debonair smile and a wink to ideally placate her, though Trib realizes she might not react well to this.
His mismatched eyes don't leave the stallion for a moment after this: the only sign of his wired senses as the painted male casually comes between the pair. "Maybe not," he says in teasingly haughty tones, "but it sure looks good on me." His lips settle to one side in a smirk, all too ready to bare the teeth behind them.