The clatter of a pebble against stone was loud and sudden, causing Mariael’s head to shoot up in alarm, her eyes rolling and her muscles tense beneath her coat. She whirled around, ears turned back, body language screaming aggression only to see no one. Before she could step forward to investigate, she heard hooves over the rock. The clipped noise brought the figure closer and the soft, hazy light of the snowfall outside draped the black stallion in dull hues. She snorted, displeased. He had yet to accept the Bay as his home, but Mariael had not given up on him yet. She knew he belonged here, he only needed to see it for himself.
Of course, the thought that he had been near when she’d nearly cried (there was a soft stain of a tear against her cheek, but it was drying, interrupted before more could flow), hardened her against him in that moment. Mariael could not afford to look weak before anyone, but especially this stallion who was still clearly displeased with the way she’d forced him into her herd.
“I’ll have your name now.” She demanded, her voice sharp as it bounced over the rocks. Mariael did not flinch from it – hearing the hardness at the edges of her tone. She remained a mask that would not show what emotions lingered beneath it. She remained proud, head high and gaze slitted as if any further disapproval on his end would earn him punishment… not that it would, Mariael had never struck anyone she did not believe deserving of physical abuse, but she certainly knew the best way to hold herself to appear somewhat threatening.
Perhaps if she appeared vicious enough he wouldn’t think to question anything he saw of her or heard from her moments before the fallen stone had betrayed his location.
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