He could see the way her ears flitted back, disappearing into the thick expanse of her ebony mane. Dark eyes bore into him, making him feel small under her harsh gaze. Like a colt who had gotten himself into trouble, he nearly shrunk back - a terrible habit from the days of his youth, when his father would raise his voice, snapping at him with yellowed teeth in an attempt to toughen him up. As if that had ever helped. If he had still been a timid foal, he would have recoiled away from the onyx mare. But he did not. Standing his ground, he rooted himself to the spot, sharp hooves digging into the mess of snow and dirt that lines the banks of the Falls. He wasn't even sure he could step away if he wanted to. When she spoke, her tone was vile, words cutting at his ears almost as harshly as the frigid air around them.
He had never been a woman from the Peak. His mother had almost went there, once, before he was born. He remembered her telling him about it before she left the Islands. He remembered feeling sad for her, wondering what had stopped her. He supposed he knew: fear. The primal emotion that was inflicted upon her with the only weapon Felony knew how to use: his teeth. She stayed rooted in the Lagoon, barely surviving as the seasons passed. She was a wildflower, his mother, meant to grow free, to spread her roots as far and wide as she pleased. But Felony had confined her, and she had wilted under his care. She claimed to be happy, on the few occasions Mikhail'd had the confidence to ask. But she stole those glances, and he knew she wanted to run. He could see it in her face that she was never truly satisfied, but her love for his father far outweighed any resentment she held towards him.
He hated to think about the things his father might have said regarding the Peak mares. Suddenly, he was thankful he never asked.
A shake of his head dispelled these intrusive thoughts from his adrenaline-addled brain. One deep breath, then another, and finally, he had the wits about him to reply. His tone was soft and low when he spoke. "I am Mikhail," another deep breath. Calmer now, he continues, "formerly of the Lagoon. I'm very sorry for my rude reaction. You simply surprised me, is all." He hoped his explanation would appease her; he had seen a glimpse of her ire and wished to never witness it again.
Relaxing his posture, Mikhail flicked his ears towards her, eyes brightening as he relaxed. "From what I've heard, our families have feuded quite a bit in the past. You're not going to take me prisoner, are you?" His tone carried a hint of humor to its edge, syllables falling from his tongue as lightly as the flakes that swirled around them, carried by the brisk winter wind.