Whatever reaction Dante had been expecting from his visitor, it certainly wasn’t an invitation to touch her. His expression crumpled in confusion, and he eyed the mare suspiciously, his mouth a thoughtful but unthreatening frown. Though she had calmed down after her initial outburst, Dante didn’t exactly think they were on hugging-terms just yet. At first he did not take her command seriously, but as he continued to gaze at her face, he began to realise that the expression he saw there was of strict sincerity.

“Um...” he began awkwardly, unsure and hesitant. “Okay?”

Cautiously, moving slowly in case the mare suddenly decided to withdraw her invitation and get aggressive. He took it a few steps at a time, shuffling along the white-gold sand carefully, and pausing every few seconds to regard her and check if she was preparing to attack him. He was fully aware that he probably looked very foolish, but he was more concerned with his safety.

At last he was right in front of her, and he looked nervously into her intriguingly different green eyes. Slowly, he extended his muzzle towards her, one-eyed gaze never leaving hers, reaching out to try and bump his nose lightly against her own for a moment. With that he pulled away, but did not retreat back to his original place. Instead he remained in front of her, curious to see her reaction, and ready to dart away again at a moment’s notice.

DANTE
a man possessed of some radical notions