| s o l g a r
He hadn't really expected to actually meet her face with his teeth, for it had (mostly) been a bluff. No, teeth were something to be saved for more trifling and serious circumstances, particularly when he was not trying to put the moves on a mare.
Nevertheless, he pulls back in surprise when, not only does she dodge his 'attack', but her face suddenly drops out of view. Stiff-legged and with dark eyes wide, Solgar watches in bewilderment as both the gentle downward slope of the hill and the snow conspire against the mare, allowing the force of gravity to pull her gracelessly onto the ground with a heavy crunch of the snow beneath her.
After a moment of stunned silence, he can't help it: he erupts into low, mirthful laughter and stamps a fore hoof on the wet ground with pure, unadultered amusement. He isn't even mad that the mood had been destroyed; it's the funniest thing he's seen in a good while.
When the last echoes of his rugged guffaws have faded away into the chilly air, he opens his teary dark brown eyes to see that Neassa has recollected some of her dignity and has turned her back on him to stroll away into the trees. Evidently she didn't find it in the least bit funny, he thinks, but doesn't feel in the slightest bit guilty.
Solgar hadn't laughed like that in years.
Still chuckling under his breath, he trots after her. "Hey," he calls, and when he reaches her side, he lips at her shoulder encouragingly. "Have a sense of humor, won't ya?"
ten; mustang; blue roan; 15'3hh; inlet; shiva |