She watched him carefully as the distance was closed between them. Dickere still didn’t know Lyden and never in her life had she met a nice stallion. Not that her father had been mean but he hadn’t been particularly warm or compassionate. He’d been a stoic figure that never cracked a smile or threw his neck over his daughters to pull them close for a hug. He’d chased out her older brothers, fought off approaching stallions, and kept his band of mares in sight at all times. Those were the sort of men that Dickere was used to, that she’d thought the world was made up of. But her father (and other stallions at the oak grove) would have driven Dock away from the herd the moment she returned smelling like another stallion’s scent. That or they simply would have covered her themselves, hoping their seed would be the stronger.
Yet Lyden had done neither of those things. It made Dickere nervous, not because she was frightened of him but because she wasn’t sure how to behave around him. She was thankful for his protection and she was thankful that he hadn’t driven Dock away but she still needed to spend time with him to understand him.
Their muzzles brushed and warm breath was exchanged between the pair of them before her ears flicked and caught his words. The way he said her name was even different. She blinked, however. It had never even occurred to her to leave and for a moment she was at a loss of what to say. “Why would I do that?” She asked, curious. “The forest is plentiful, your protection is appreciated, and those I have met are very kind.” Dickere gave her head the slightest shake. “Sorry,” she laughed softly, embarrassed, “I’m confused on the customs here.”
of the forest
black sabino [aa Ee n/Sb1], fourteen.three hands, arabian cross filly, two years old, played by pirate |