Posted on July 2, 2014 at 09:32:17 PM by LEVIATHAN
It seemed these foreign islands were filled to the brim with stallions.
The blue mare had managed to intimidate Leviathan within reason. She was large and formidable, and quite a disquieting sight for one to see upon their arrival here. The dark woman stood before the other mare, glaring up at her from behind dark eyelids, her stance defensive and her ears slicked back. As the strange female does little more than stare back at Leviathan, the black lifts her head and returns the glare through narrowed eyes.
Of course, their silent interlude is interrupted by the arrival of a stallion- one that was just as brightly coloured as the first stallion she had met on the warmer island that she had landed on, only this one was much smaller. As she looked to him, her face wears a look of amusement and disbelief, thinking this is the half-grown son of the large mare that stood like a brick wall in front of the sea woman.
When he announces that he is a “Pony King”, she assumed that he was divulging to her information that she ought to pay attention to. It also seemed as though this small mite of a stallion was the head of the herd here, and that thought alone receives a derisive snort from the black mare.
She had grown accustomed to males being violent or aggressive towards her, and more often than not, that had been equal to her in size, some happening to outweigh her or stand above her- but she had yet to see a stallion of such small stature. Momentarily tossing a questioning look at the blue roan before turning back to the stallion, she wonders if some sort of witchery had kept the much larger mare here, as certainly she could have trampled the small stallion if she so desired. “What brings you to my shores?” While Dögun’s question is one that Leviathan can easily answer, she decides to be more literal. “My legs and the sea.” Her answer is flat, as if she cares little to answer his questions, and instead decides to get down to business.
Turning back to the mare, she has a look of disappointment on her face. “This man keeps you here?” Her quizzical tone is hushed and rough, as if she is trying to keep her words from the ears of the stallion, but she knows such efforts are fruitless, as horses have fantastic hearing. Perhaps she hoped that the blue was here under a circumstance of coincidence. “He is so…. Petite.”
The blue mare had managed to intimidate Leviathan within reason. She was large and formidable, and quite a disquieting sight for one to see upon their arrival here. The dark woman stood before the other mare, glaring up at her from behind dark eyelids, her stance defensive and her ears slicked back. As the strange female does little more than stare back at Leviathan, the black lifts her head and returns the glare through narrowed eyes.
Of course, their silent interlude is interrupted by the arrival of a stallion- one that was just as brightly coloured as the first stallion she had met on the warmer island that she had landed on, only this one was much smaller. As she looked to him, her face wears a look of amusement and disbelief, thinking this is the half-grown son of the large mare that stood like a brick wall in front of the sea woman.
When he announces that he is a “Pony King”, she assumed that he was divulging to her information that she ought to pay attention to. It also seemed as though this small mite of a stallion was the head of the herd here, and that thought alone receives a derisive snort from the black mare.
She had grown accustomed to males being violent or aggressive towards her, and more often than not, that had been equal to her in size, some happening to outweigh her or stand above her- but she had yet to see a stallion of such small stature. Momentarily tossing a questioning look at the blue roan before turning back to the stallion, she wonders if some sort of witchery had kept the much larger mare here, as certainly she could have trampled the small stallion if she so desired. “What brings you to my shores?” While Dögun’s question is one that Leviathan can easily answer, she decides to be more literal. “My legs and the sea.” Her answer is flat, as if she cares little to answer his questions, and instead decides to get down to business.
Turning back to the mare, she has a look of disappointment on her face. “This man keeps you here?” Her quizzical tone is hushed and rough, as if she is trying to keep her words from the ears of the stallion, but she knows such efforts are fruitless, as horses have fantastic hearing. Perhaps she hoped that the blue was here under a circumstance of coincidence. “He is so…. Petite.”
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