Mercedes found herself distracted by the stallion’s eyes. Never before had she looked into the eyes of another, and even when he spoke she barely heard him. Only when her nose gently bumped his did she realize her head had been slowly lifting from its aggressive position, her ears following suit.

When their skin touched, she jerked away as if she had been met with an electric shock. Mercedes flicked her ear in the barest of apologies, and promptly forgot about the entire few moments of her distraction. Her ears fell again and she brought her nose back into her own space. She had vaguely registered his words, but his voice still rang clearly in her head.

“Speak again,” she demanded.

It had intrigued Mercy how the man hadn’t even flinched at her approach. Was he some sort of soldier, used to this kind of situation? Could it be he thought he was the ruler of this land? Was it because she was female?

With a snort she proceeded to size him up. They were about the same in build and height, though she was barely taller and he was barely older. They might have been well matched had it come to a fight, except for the fact that Mercedes had absolutely no experience, and surely this man had a fight or two under his belt. The mare’s head dropped a bit with the nervousness of knowing he could likely beat her into the sand.

She didn’t stay nervous for long, however; surely some stallion wasn’t going to waltz into her home and beat the living daylights out of her. He hadn’t been aggressive, and she didn’t see it as likely he would chase her off or attack. So she relaxed, shook out her coat and lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Go away,” she said, and proceeded to turn away and walk toward the trees where her lonely shelter stood waiting for her. The sun was beginning to sink, and she could feel the temperature begin to drop.
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