Living through world without the mask installed at such as young age is a foreign concept, a concept that has never sat well with someone so fiesty and with such strong opinions. Perhaps calling it a mask is the wrong term, it is more like a light switch that never seems to rest in the 'off' position. Going through life as a mare with strong opinions and a fiesty head on her shoulders makes it difficult to be around any sort of company without having a quick tongue to defense herself and what it is she believes in. It has proved its worth as she recalls her debate with Bayard, each time she had a way to state her opinion, though irrational assumptions were made and blurted out by the red-head she was careful to recant them later in the conversation while still holding onto her opinion as he had yet to make a counter that made any sort of sense. Ever since then the light switch has been left in the on position, and it has been stuck there since before her meeting with Bayard.

Now that she has time to truly stop and think about it, she cannot recall the time she was able to relax enough to have some type of "fun" or even to just relax and not have to be careful about every word she speaks. She is comparable to someone that grew up with wealth, where image is everything, as is speech. Everything she does is prim and proper, but not without a certain roudiness that she had easily picked up both from breeding and from those she chose to stay around. It would seem that, for the first time since she can remember, she is allowed to let down her hair, so to speak, and have a wild night. There seems to be only one problem, however, and it's the fact she does not remember how to relax and loosen up. She doesn't know how to just relax her constantly tensed (to some degree) muscles and let her tongue run loose without her grammar filter snuggly in place. She can see the truth in the words of Boomslang, but she does not know how he is able to be so free with himself. Part of he believes that it's easier for a stallion, if only because they aren't often oppressed because they are the subordinate gender.

"I actually like the way you talk, it's refreshing." She states with a small smile, a tilt of her head adding a certain innocence to her genuine look as she tries to make a sentence up in her mind that she can be loose with but she can't help but get frustrated as it all just sounds so forced to her. Partly because it is. "I don't know if I can do it... it's not something I'm accustomed to." Her admittance is soft, as if she's afraid someone else would hear her words. What is almost comical about the situation is that she'd almost sound Southern if she were to speak similarly to Boomslang, which is so far opposite from her English Major way of speaking. She is not aware of this, however, so the surprise of the bound to be adorable resemblence is still a future option. For now she looks at him with a strange sense of wonder in her eyes, curious and intrigued by the stallion that seems to full of... a playful spark. His type of personality is a rarity to find and the fact she has finally found someone like this makes her overjoyed. Pantera does not feel threatened in any way and that's a brilliant start to a beautiful friendship.