Vacco, the dusty stranger was menacing. He was strange to her. Wendy had never met a character like this before. He almost seemed to speak in riddles, how he spoke disturbed something inside of Wendy, it wasn’t known if it was fear or curiosity at all times. Had she gone home with the villain or been rescued by a knight? What lurked in those pines that were more unsettling than the brute before her? Wendy wasn’t sure she wanted to know. His low voice makes her ears flicker like a candle’s flame. It was another riddle. She scoffs her murky hoof on the ground at the thought of something else she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

She follows his trail, perhaps at times almost too closely. She’d become afraid for moments and creep closer to his massive frame, close enough he could have planted a swift kick right into her delicately sculpted face. It was a dark, dark night when your only savior scares you almost as much as the might and might nots. Wendy came from a superstitious land, she believed in the spirits, in darkness and heaviness. She treaded lightly when she felt such feelings of doom and gloom. The sooty stallion was the safer option rather than sitting in the stillness of the night wondering, even if he caused all sorts of thoughts and worries.

It was this trek that he led her on she was able to shamelessly examine her captor. Besides the size difference which she’d noticed in the very beginning she was able to look at him without crippling shyness. She looked at his churning legs and rippling muscles. She looked at his tangled mane and tail as it wafted and the banding on his legs. He was unique, unlike anyone she’d met in her recent travels. He was almost barbaric and nature and appeared to look like be belonged to a ravenous tribe. Perhaps that wasn’t untrue. Her amber eyes continue to roam, wincing as branches snapped back against her from the behemoth, Vacco. It would be so easy to give up, to just lie down.

Panic set in as she realized the water got much deeper at a much quicker rate at this spot. The original land bridge she’d traveled across she was able to touch the sandy bottom the entire time. Now she kicked and flailed at moments, following willingly, though afraid. It was a longing to belong in her moments of fear she needed the comfort of a warm body, no matter how malevolent the companion appeared. It was instinct buried deep down inside, it was a logic even the naïve Wendy had built in. Relief washed over her as they neared land. She felt weak, the pounding in her chest was heavy but she felt safe. She hadn’t been sucked under by unruly waters in the inky night.

Wendy was but three, her temper had never reared its ugly head before. She surprised even herself, and as he closed in, she felt so small. Who was she to curse someone who’d experienced real life and hardship, who survived? Up until the last few months, Wendy had always been protected and cherished, it had never been her duty to find somewhere safe, and it’d always been done for her. She now had to depend on someone who frightened her; the gold and ivory doll had gotten into so much trouble. As he closed the gap between them her lips twitched, unsure of what his intentions were, what would he do if she bit in fear? The dun didn’t need to lurch forward; he was large enough that several bounds would put him past Wendy. Her ears flutter up after being nestled into her mane for so long. She tosses her salty locks that formed into dreads and twisted about her elegant neck as she looks at this unfamiliar place. She shifts her hooves in the grainy sand and dry grass as ocean water pools at her feet, trickling from her mane and tail down her slender legs. She shifts her weight away from him, but does not step away again, just turns her head away. She becomes bashful once more and locks herself away, the raw emotion of her anger crumbling once faced with action.

Her tail slowly begins to flick, the tenseness loosening noticeably, the seconds are palpable. She is still uncertain and it is obvious she is guarded with the large stallion. At one moment she can share a breath with him, even touch him, within hours she’s already attempted to yell at him. He needs not even yell back to quiet her, the eerie calm of the warrior does the trick. A chilled breath from the sea makes the small vixen shiver but she does not seek warmth. Her eyes flicker from the lapping waves before them, a sight to behold, but an odd one for the pair, it felt strange to share such pretty views with someone so callous. Wendy wants to revel in the whimsical scene but feels that the simple beauty is lost on the hardened creature before her. He almost seems reptilian. Briefly her eyes scale up the stoic beast’s frame to his chiseled face. Her gaze wavers for but a moment and her eyes slide down. Her weight shifts closer to him now and she gingerly tugs a dangling piece of seaweed from his tangled mane and shakes the salty bit from her mouth before returning to the disturbed spot and blowing a hot breath against it to soothe the spot and smooth his mane back down, she lingers for a moment before returning her eyes to the ocean. She doesn’t look at him as she speaks. ”If I run from you, Vacco,” She tries the name on her tongue, ”nothing will change; I haven’t known where I am in a long time.”

wendy // paint horse // 3 // mare // palomino overo ee/Aa/nCr/nO // 14.3 hands // No Home// No Rank // Jen