Together, their necks stretched and their muzzles bumped. The soft velvet of Isobel’s lips tickled against Hickere’s and she found her quiet hope being answered. The mare seemed just as happy to meet Hickere as Hickere was to meet her. Only… the shadow of a curious frown came to settle over Hickere’s expression, watching as Isobel shook her head. She noticed the shine of tears quite quickly glossing over the mare’s eyes and felt her heart leap in alarm. “Oh, hey! Hey, it’s okay,” she chided gently and her thoughts whirred in her head as she tried to put two and two together…
Dock didn’t talk to strangers even though she was capable, but that was because she refused to – she’d once told Dickere that it was as if her throat locked up and she was incapable. But Isobel wasn’t showing the signs of distress that Dock showed in social situations. In fact, if anything, it almost appeared that she was desperate to be able to reply. “Can you…” Hickere’s voice was soft, gentle, as though she was touching on a subject that might be sensitive, “can you talk?” Her ears flicked forward and she smiled softly. “It’s alright if not,” the grin tugged a bit up at the corner almost playfully, “I’ve been told I talk enough for four horses.” She giggled, playfully poking at her own bubbly personality to perhaps help Isobel feel more comfortable; to know there would be no judgment from Hickere if she could not.
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