She sees the sharpness in his expression, feels the edge of his words on her ears, and Rhadra throws her head up and laughs. Of course. Make like it’s the mare who’s too intense, as if she’s the one who’s been behaving reprehensibly. Under her mirth, however, is an undercurrent of unease. When he shouts for the pale girl —Talya, sweet thing— Rhadra makes a point to return his intense stare, refusing to look as the girl emerges slowly from her hiding place.
She does, however, tip an ear toward the other mare in tandem with the stallion, but it is not she who speaks. Instead, “Mamapapa” asks what might have been an innocuous question if it had come from literally anyone else. Rhadra’s eyes narrow. She wonders how swiftly she can interpose herself between the male and Talya even as she wonders at her own boldness. There is nowhere for her to retreat, after all, should the stallion turn violent, and as noble-minded as Rhadra likes to believe she is she knows that if things progress to the point of unbridled aggression she will flee for her own safety.
“It must be so easy for you to live life like you’ve never done a thing wrong,” she says to the stallion in the deepening dusk, unable to help herself. Her heart wells with loathing for this male and she takes a step toward him as she continues, “As if everyone else has a problem or is flawed. Not you though, hm? Easier to play it off like I’m flirting and you’re rejecting me than to admit I’ve hit the bullseye on you.” Rhadra snorts, then glances at Talya, wondering what kind of impact, if any, witnessing this has had on the girl.
“I’m not nobody,” she asserts. “I’m Rhadra.” |