Falls

She would be hard to miss even if No was in the habit of being oblivious, the mare's erratic path enough to give the shorter stallion pause. He turns his gaze to their surroundings to check for a cause, but after a few minutes he realizes the cause is because the mare was just weird. He huffs out a breath and lets his attention return to the river, yawning as he paws at the rocks which line the river bed just to hear the muffled clunk as the water rolled them further down stream.

He looks up again when her wandering path brings her close enough to speak, wet tail snapping against his side as he sends a cascade of droplets the mare's way. Regardless of the tone it was said in, she wasn't wrong. He was at home in the water; always would be, regardless of the body he found himself in. Her introduction was a little backwards but he doesn't mind it, shifting on his forehand so that he was no longer standing with his back to her at the very least. He watches her, one ear cocked as she jigs in place, seemingly incapable of standing still, before asking curiously, "Was the river unkind to you?"

He can't think of any other reason why anyone would "hate" water. It was as inescapable as breathing air and just as necessary.