* lethal beauty

Her nap didn’t last long -- they never seemed to -- for a voice stirred her from her slumber. Opening her eyes, she is forced to lift them. Through the canopy of pine, she makes out his figure, and the searching look upon the handsome stern features of his face. With a huff, the mare stands. It wasn’t the most graceful of sights, for her joints ached and her body was quite heavy. Heavier than it looked, anyways.

At least, by now, she was dry -- and not so cold. Or, perhaps, she was simply numb. Such wasn’t difficult to feel in a place such as this. He introduced himself as an earl, and saffron looked at him curiously -- he didn’t seem particularly weak, so why did he settle, she wondered? Before she managed to answer, another drama began to unfold, as Enigma arrived. Saffron’s ears tilt back with annoyance against the ashen tangles of her (mostly) black mane.

Many times Saffron had made efforts to leave the mare to her own devices -- to find a family of her own, horses that were younger, that she could build lasting relationships with. There was only one great adventure left for Saffron, and it’s ending would not only be short, but predictable. Saffron knew how much pain such a devastating loss early in life could be. And perhaps, for that reason, Saffron should have left young Enigma to her fate in that field. But the mother and great mother within Saffron would not have it. There had been many times in life that she had wished someone -- anyone -- had given her the same consideration.

“ I have chased you. I have bitten you, kicked you, ran from you, even hidden from you. “ she replies, her words husky and tapered with the accent of a mujer. “ And still, to this day, you defy me. Don’t you know I only want what is best for you? “ she groans with defeat (a feeling that she doesn’t wear quite so gracefully, mind you).

She turns her attention to Liland. “ I am Saffron. And this… “ she gives pause, looking around, lifting her head a little higher -- she had a fine build, even at her advanced age. What a looker she must have been in her youth? One could almost make out the finer, more sharpened details of her face, when it was young and not at all scruffy. “ ..We stand upon the ruins of what was once my kingdom. “

She swings her head, gesturing with the point of her nose. “... And this is my shadow, Enigma. “

[ twenty | xx | bay roan [ee Aa nRn] | spanish mustang | bay resident ]
[ mother and grandmother many ]