scylla -----
by anawar out of daenerys
The stallion’s affect is calm, which Scylla takes as an encouraging sign. She knows it could change in an instant, of course, so she doesn’t let her guard down, though her tense muscles loosen slightly. Her eyes search his face for any telltale signs of what he’s thinking but she comes up blank. That combined with his strange words make her eyes narrow slightly.
”And what exactly is a basran?” she asks, the foreign word feeling strange on her tongue. ”My name is Scylla.”
His intense gaze makes her feel a little uncomfortable but she doesn’t break the eye contact. She stares right back at him, trying to figure him out. He’s definitely the strangest creature she’s ever met, as much of an enigma as Encantador and also not very talkative. She holds her head high almost challengingly, wondering what exactly this stallion is expecting from her.
The unexpected sadness in his eyes throws Scylla for a loop, having already figured that this is a stallion that wouldn’t tolerate showing such an emotion in public. Maybe he doesn’t count conversations with strangers as public, she thinks to herself.
She feels a sudden connection to him, though, at his reluctance to call the Dunes his home. She’d never felt at home in the Ledge or the Desert, or even the Harbor, where her father had lived. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to get into such a heavy subject, so she cranes her head and examines the plentiful sandy mounds.
”It does lack a certain lived-in feel to it,” she agrees, her eyes lingering on the dune closest to them. She looks back at him, a smirk coming to her whiskered ebony lips. ”So how long are you going to wait before you start filling this place up?”
four - black tobiano - mixed - 15hh |