There is no better way to know us
than as two wolves, come separately to a wood
And so it was that the girls got their own way. It was usually the outcome, because they had a way about them you see. Especially Sinopa. She made it awful hard for people to say no to her. Had she always been that way? No one knows, save for her twin. The stories she tells of the childhood she shared with Tolinka are different every time. Both sisters have silver tongues and a mastery over words. The crafty bay girl uses her voice in ways very few can. And the silent shadow? Hers is the heart of a poet.
The dark paint mare glanced over the stallion with little interest when he first appeared, her gaze roaming over the landscape around them, as if she were hoping for something more. But her plain sister, her eyes widened slightly, and she immediately took several steps toward him, tilting her muzzle up a little, her focus unwavering. “Oh, would you look at that,” she said, turning her head as she spoke to the mare behind her, but her gaze still on the stranger, as if she were bewitched by him. “We found ourselves a pretty one.” She flicked her tail, and twitched an ear forwards. At his words though, she seemed to go very still, something flickering in her dark eyes.
Tolinka slowly straightened, and turned her head slowly, so that she pinned him down with her gaze. Oh, that was a bit bold of him. Did he know what he was getting himself into? (Then again, did anyone ever? Speaking to these girls was to choose a narrow path. There was never any turning back.) For a few moments, she did nothing but stare like she was waiting for him to back down. It occurred to her that perhaps he didn’t care what he was getting himself into. Hmm, she kind of liked that. Another moment, another breath and then she lunged for him, ears pinned, muzzle snaking towards him. No contact – she pulled up just short, muzzle to muzzle, and snorted harshly, lifting her head high looking down at him, issuing her own challenge.
As if Tolinka’s movement spurred Sinopa back to life, she too advanced on the male, sidled right up to him as if they were old friends. A soft peal of laughter left her lips and she nudged the stallion’s neck, before sharing a brief look with Tolinka. “Silly boy!” she shook her head. “You didn’t say please!” And it was she who set her teeth to his skin, but gently, as if to tease. “You can call me Sinopa,” she said with a touch of airs and graces, as if she was honouring him in some way. Perhaps, in her own mind, she was. “And you already know my sister, Toli!” Another shared glance, this one longer. “So, what can we call you, huh handsome?”
Tolinka had drawn her head back, was watching her handsome stranger with great interest. She wasn’t quite ready to touch him yet (but oh, when she was…), and if he made any move towards her, she’d be slippery as an eel. It was possible that he’d outwit her if he was very determined, but she’d do her best to make him work for the privilege. This was the way she had always been, and perhaps this was the only truth in all of Sinopa’s tales. Even more than Sinopa, Tolinka always made sure that she was remembered by those that mattered.
SINOPA + TOLINKA
the fox && the hound
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