Havelle isn't sure what she expected to find in the meadow today, but she too finds herself faced with a series of surprises. With each passing moment, she sees more of this colt. His coat is a contrast of rich bay against splashes of white, a color Havelle hasn't seen a lot of, being surrounded by duns. She admires his color. Under a tapestry of tobiano, a young stallion is taking shape. His maleness is something entirely different from her brother's. She is suddenly intensely aware of their differences, from the sharpness of his jaw line, to the contours of lean muscle. Her heart beats an increasing rhythm inside her chest, and a heat blossoms in her cheeks.
Havelle is in a period of transition. She is somewhere in limbo between girlhood and marehood. She is dependent upon her father for support and guidance, but she is brave enough to travel to the crossing alone now. Last she was here, she played tag and disturbed the peace in the meadow, but now, all she wants to do is graze, and admire this handsome colt. Such feelings are new to her, and altogether intense. Havelle doesn't know how to deal with them, so she swallows them whole and tries to pretend they don't exist.
"I'm from the Bay" The filly's black-tipped ears are pricked with interest now. "What's it like growing up in the Peak?", she wonders. Havelle knows the Peak is home to a band of mares, much like the Coven her mother speaks of. Being a colt in such an environment must be difficult, to know you won't be welcomed upon maturity. Havelle recalls tales of her uncle Nattergal, after which her brother is named. She wonders what it would be like to be cast out like that. Havelle knows she'll always have a place with either of her parents. No matter what happens, or how old she gets. Is this what draws such tired lines across this colt's face?
She is inclined to reach out, but a new kind of fear leaves her frozen in place. She can feel a cold sweat breaking out on her back, and butterflies take wing in her stomach.