Meadow

hello hello whilst I work on that picture

The streaky strength of the sun sees Cordula only sighting the shadow of the swarthy stallion. An obscured outline, as her eyes adjust around him. Long lashes and limber legs, the mare mulls to a halt in her languid loll. She tilts her head to the side, and her stare is half-lidded and only half interested, as she investigates the darker divots of his body amongst the bounds of fog.

Cordula isn’t considering creepy monsters as she carefully studies him, not that her casual cock of a hoof shows much sincere interest. There’s no alice in wonderland wide-eyedness from her, knee nonchalantly resting as is she was scheduled for a summer day chit-chat with the stranger. The dusty rose dame notices his dapples, and she likes the licks of rust in his blotches of bronze, buried under the brown brown boldness of his body. “Oh hello,” One ear leans towards him, her other tilts towards herself, a half intrigued expression on the intricate lines of her ruddy ruddy face. “Have you been asleep long?”