zaia

She is glad to see the stallion has a sense of humor, and she stops trying to contain her amusement when he lifts his head higher to show off the curved bridge of his nose. It is attractive, but she is struck by how suggestive his words are and, only being physically mature, Zaia throws her head back and laughs. She stifles it as he continues to speak and makes a conscious effort to act her age, but it is evident as she stares at her companion that she’s on the verge of doubling over from hilarity.

Still, she sobers as he speaks of his home and does her best to picture what he’s told her. “There’s more like you there?” she asks, and wonders if he’s the most handsome or if he left because he was, in fact, the ugliest. She snorts and give herself a mental kick to pay attention: the stallion’s grin has faded and she fears it is her fault for being so ridiculous. Zaia curves her neck and readjusts her weight so that it is balanced evenly on all four hooves a she stands at attention, but the gesture is hardly necessary as a wide grin brings his eyes to life again.

“Oh, ahaha, I uh, I came across the ocean,” she laughs a little as she relaxes again. “My home was nothing special. Grass, trees, horses. The usual. A very ordinary place with ordinary horses. That’s why I’m here,” she continues, ducking her head and looking up at the stallion through her lashes in a manner she intends to be flirtatious. “I want to see extraordinary places and meet extraordinary horses. Like you!” She flings her head up suddenly and lunges forward to jab his neck with her nose before she bolts a few feet away. There she stands, head up and tail whipping at her hocks as she waits to see if he’ll chase her.