mare | mutt | blue roan | 15.2 | inlet | frost
olaf x xina

Despite her mocking, the stallion held his temper well, Xiomara would at least give him that. She stood silent, rigid, as he spoke. Only when he was done did her muscles release, letting her prowl around him like a cat sizing up its next meal. Her blue eyes drifted over his flesh, her pink nose reaching over to bump at his hide a few times. Only when she reached where she had been standing before did she stop, head high and her gaze icy cold.


“Is this how politics and alliances are made?” she asked, her voice holding a bitter chill in it now. “I defeat an enemy you can not, or will not, so now you have come to stroke my ego with congratulations. To offer me tribute, or rather sacrifice your young to a leader you do not know? I rather like blood, what if I decide to eat one?” Xiomara snorted, her warm breath curling up around her muzzle as she stomped a large hoof in agitation.


“I will think about your offer and if I decide to consider your alliance, I will come and see the stock first before I make my claim. I would hate for you to send me a useless runt.” Done with this conversation, Xiomara turned and strode away back towards the herd she had come from.