Meadow

Faolain watched the battle unfolding before her with cold eyes and a reserved, blank expression. The more she watched, the more she disliked, and the more she wanted to just walk away, but the mare’s nature was ravenously curious and she wanted to see the outcome of the fight, purely for the sake of knowing which mare would come out the victor. Faolain had no intention of joining in herself, or interacting in any way with the brawlers. Even when the speckled mare that she had nearly run over spat venomous words at herself and the grulla, the black mare did not react. Her gaze remained steady and cool, and not even a flick of an ear gave away that she had heard the declaration of weakness at all.

As the blows landed and the blood droplets and tufts of hair flew, Faolain’s interest in the battle waned. She was impatient, and this was taking too long. She no longer cared for the outcome. She was certainly not waiting her turn to join in, and she was disinterested in speaking with either of the contestants of the fight when they were done. She had learned everything she could from them. Almost, that is.

"How mighty a display of strength it is to unwittingly coax death out of the jaws of another, like a foal who thinks herself invincible," she said, quietly enough that she might have been speaking to the grulla, though she knew they could hear if they wanted to, if they decided to pay attention. It was the last little prod Faolain gave the situation before declaring it no longer of use to her, no longer interesting; were the two warriors truly dedicated to the art of battle for the sake of battle, or were they putting on a display? Were they watching the observers to see how they reacted? That, in Faolain’s opinion, took away from the genuine enjoyment of something: to do it for the eyes of a viewer. "We will never know if you are stronger than I, though I suspect you both may be. But we both know death is stronger than you." After a second of pause to see if her words had fallen on listening ears, the inky mare turned to leave, not sparing another glance at the warring women or the gentle soul unlucky enough to be in the Meadow when she had.

Ooc: sorry about the wait y’all, turns out writing as an observer without just repeating the same posts is kinda difficult xD if Yazheen or Maraigh decide to pounce on her for her spiciness that’s fine with me, otherwise I think I’m going to pull her from the thread :3 I’m cool with it turning into a brawl, I’m just very worried about posting Boring Posts in this otherwise very exciting thread!

FAOLAIN