The peculiar crush of hoof nearby draws Rhadra’s contemplative gaze to the horse stepping into the clearing, transferring her attention outward. The lean, leggy mare across the way wears a pained expression: jaw tight, ears back, as if she has been presented with something offensive. Rhadra glances over her shoulder but the only other occupant of this field is... well, her. She’s entertaining the idea that maybe this dark horse is simply preoccupied with some prickly personal matters and will pass on through but that notion is quickly dashed when the tall mare stops and addresses her.
Rhadra isn’t sure how to respond. The flat tone and minimal reprieve of the mare’s aggressive body language makes her feel targeted and acutely alone in her formidable presence. It puts her in mind of the pale girl by the creek —for fear and anger are kin— and Rhadra relaxes her pensive stance to something more relaxed: tipping one hind and letting her head hang a bit lower, ears turned to the sides to express calm and ease. She thinks, too, of Kestral and his undisturbed placidity, and holds the image of a still lake in her mind to center herself.
Thus fortified, Rhadra blinks slowly at the other mare and offers her a small smile. All will be well. “No more alone than you,” she says. The other mare seems restless, irritated, but Rhadra is a calm cold lake cupped by the mountain. “I’m Rhadra. You may keep company with me, if you’d like.”
There really is no end to interesting here. |