marina ----- by el barroco out of melody She can hardly believe she’s really here, staring at the very tree that has been the centerpiece of many of her mother’s stories. She realizes in this moment that her grandmother had been right: there is no comparison between hearing the description of the willow and actually seeing it. She can hear a small pool of water bubbling nearby, and as soon as she pokes her white face around the tree, she sees it. Marina is so giddy that she can’t resist jumping into it, splashing about and whinnying with joy. She comes bounding out, hocks dripping and blue eyes bright with fevered excitement, only to press her muzzle right up against the bark of the old willow. Her heart beats fast, thrilled beyond belief that she actually has this opportunity. It has completely slipped her mind that there are sure to be others in the territory, and she is so engrossed in her joy that she doesn’t notice the approaching figure until his quiet voice breaks the silence. She jumps visually, wincing as her soft nose scrapes the tree trunk. Nostrils flaring and head whipping around, Marina’s wide eyes fall upon the oddest sight she has ever seen. It is clearly a stallion, and she realizes that this must be the new leader of the Forest. Her lips curl upward slightly as she realizes that he shares some physical characteristics with her grandfather. The dark shade of his pelt and the feathers at his fetlocks are familiar, as is the height – though of course he doesn’t quite reach Ikari’s eighteen hands. That isn’t the thing that is most intriguing however. She has never seen another of her kind with spots. She is entranced by them, roving over his face and back, and even down his legs. Blinking, she looks up at him, embarrassed at having been caught in such a juvenile position. ”Hello,” she murmurs, ”I’m sorry about the intrusion. My family lived here a long time ago, and I just wanted to see it.” She isn’t sure if she should tell him exactly why she’d wanted to see it, but she doesn’t have to worry about deciding, as another figure approaches, this one female. The mare, also spotted, addresses the stallion first, and Marina can barely process the name – Bondurant – before the chestnut turns to her and speaks of the tree she had just been practically worshipping. She nods in agreement and smiles warmly. ”Yes, it wouldn’t surprise me if that were true.” The tree had already been well-worn when her grandparents had moved in, so Marina doesn’t doubt that it had been one of the first to sprout in this vast forest. Her blue gaze shifts between the mare and stallion, her smile still on her face. ”My name’s Marina.” five - buckskin splash - spanish mustang x shire/criollo - 15.2hh |