There was too much going on, and none of it was making any sense.
Bewildered by the sudden aggression from the two mares El Aran thought had been grieving over Razvan, the black mare pulled her chin in close to her chest and backed up a step to resume her place parallel to Encantador. The dunskin had offered her no cues on how to proceed, and he sounded as confused as she was as he sputtered a few incomplete sentences at the girls.
It wasn’t until Debonaire stood up and addressed Encantador without so much as a sideways glance at El Aran that the black mare concluded she was out of her element and this was not as aggressive a gathering as she had originally deduced. She glared at the buckskin, noting the gentle incline on his face that marked him as a horse of mixed blood. It did not make her any more inclined to be kind to him when he had so rattled her partner and dismissed her without hesitation. Fuming —no horse likes to be ignored— El Aran barely heard him prattle on about Razvan and family and whatever else he wasted his breath with.
Quite prepared to bite the buckskin on the nose for his continual disrespect, El Aran restrained herself only due to the arrival of yet more horses. On any other day she would have been delighted to see such a group mingling together, but already the corpse had begun to stink under the heat of the sun and the last place she wanted to be was standing right next to it for longer than was necessary. Her attention was caught by the sudden shriek of a chestnut mare as she rushed at the fallen stallion. Startled, El Aran half-reared and nearly fell against Encantador.
Her ears snapped back as her hooves touched the earth again and she snorted, settling her weight firmly on her front hooves and staring with her wide, dark eyes at the three horses who clustered together in front of her partner. Having nothing verbal to add to the proceedings, El Aran held herself ready to fight should the need arise and simply observed.
Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia
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