Her heart leapt from chest to throat, eyes going wide and skin prickling with excitement. It crawled along her flesh and shivered down her legs, her mouth held in a sudden smile – very soft, very brief, but there all the same. Pleasantly surprised could be her initial reaction, and not simply because she’d crossed paths with another horse. Beneath the shade he’d been lounging in and with his angular, athletic body, her eyes had played a trick on her and forced Avangeline to believe she’d come across him again. His name was on her tongue, ready to be poured out in relief before she might run to him and crush her body against his…
But reality stole away the daydream. This stallion, though in similar build to the friend she missed most, might have black points and black hair, but his body was a rich, deep chocolate when it caught the sun. Warily, Avangeline drew a step back. Though it was silly to assume every Arabian on these islands was of similar mindset to the red mare she’d once crossed paths with, Avangeline often worried it was the case. She had ruined everything the day she’d run after the red mare and it was something she might never forgive herself for.
He asked her name and her purpose, and she felt the authority in his tone. Or maybe it was his stance, which affected her more submissive behavior, tail dropping as she draws into herself – a child making herself smaller rather than a mature mare who’d do better to raise her chin high.
“My name is Avangeline,” she said, almost surprised by how her voice didn’t waver with nerves. She can feel them crawling up her throat, drawing her vocal chords taut. “I…” What was her purpose? She frowned, never once looking away from him. “I have no purpose.”
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