It does not take long for Torsten to notice her gaze lingering upon his form. Though it had only been a few months time since last she saw him it had felt like a lifetime. She was always a cheerful filly, brave and adventurous. She had enjoyed her childhood here in the Inlet. It wasnt until mother was traded to the Lagoon that she started to feel as if she was not welcome. Though Vita Nova or Neon never said anything to her, though the twins and neon's foals did not pick on her, she still felt the change. The others had changed. Ironclad and Letavice seemed enamored of following around new mares of involving themselves in the ongoings of running a herd. FItting. Neferyt too seemed to find joys in the company of others and welcomed with open arms. Tuari never could seem to find that herself. Perhaps it was that she read to deep into it, perhaps the looks she is given is out of mere curiosity than anything else but still she sees them as reluctant to have her share their company. More than once the thought to venture far from the island of Tinuvel cross her mind, perhaps she would find herself a new herd, somewhere that she might feel wanted and even appreciated not just see her as the fatherless filly of Nova.

The sounds of snow crunching beneath hooves causes her ears to flicker amid the tangle of alabaster waves. Dark eyes fall upon the russet colored form of Torsten as he makes his approach with determined steps.

Torsten.

Of all the foals on Tinuvel he had always been the most welcoming. He met her gaze with kindness and even perhaps a bit of affection. He always welcomed her with warm smiles and tender touches. Even now as he approaches, she does not miss the excitement that echoed in his light steps or the gleam in his dark eyes.

His touch.

His neck stretches forward to place his mark upon her shoulder as she had seen Warsaw do time and again to mares that he dubbed his own. Small ears fall backwards in confusion as she takes a single step backwards, dark eyes searching his own. It made sense really, that the urge to strike out on his own would begin to stir. They were two years old now and even she did not miss the rise in emotions that drew her skin into shivers of pleasure. His voice is thick and filled with emotion as he met her eyes with his own. She was his. Mother would have expected her to be deviant, to meet the touch with squeals of resistance and ears pinned with displeasure. Tuari could not.

Torsten.

He speaks again, his warm breath soothing to the turmoil of emotions that rose beneath her like the waves along the shore. "Torsten." she breathes, his name heavy upon her own lips. Torsten had always understood her pain, always knew what it felt like to be the outsider looking into the perfect family picture beyond. Though he knew his sire, even Warsaw took no interest in him. His words are confident and sure. They would create their own family.

A sense of belonging suddenly overwhelms her, a calm reassurance that sent her nostrils quivering with anticipation. Their family. A soft smile plays upon her ashen lips now as she reaches to lip lightly at a straying strand of his darkened mane. "I am yours." the words fall from her lips filled with the same passion and determination that dances in his dark eyes. Excitement flutters through her loins as she takes a single dancing step beyond his reach suddenly feeling energetic and teasing. "But I'm sure they won't agree. Your father I mean." she says glancing down to where the herd grazed quietly. She had not seen Warsaw lately, but she knew that did not mean he wouldn't be back any moment.