Her lip curls, ears slicking back against her poll as the sickly male bellows at her petulantly. He fails to act on his words at all, however, and falls to his knees before the red and black pair as if genuflecting before his superiors—as well he should. "Your very bearing invites judgment," Ak Burun says coldly as her coiled muscles relax and she stands on four easy hooves once more.
Then her gaze slides to the stallion beside her. He was as ready as she to flee this damp scene, belying the cavalier attitude he had previously expressed about his own life. She wonders still about the machinations of his gods, and whether or not he would see this feeble black stallion as another omen from his deities. Not so forgotten now, are you? she muses before her dark eyes flick back to the kneeling ‘Teke.
Her words, however, are directed to the red. "Hear how he rambles? Delirium is often a side effect of sickness. We would be remiss to allow such a plague to spread among these Isles." Her sparse tail flicks once. "Perhaps your gods have sent him to invite you to defy your death wish. Prove to them you don’t long for your own end by destroying this threat to your life." Her words are a light pressure, a test on the boundaries of the red stallion’s mind and morals. Spray from the roaring falls continuously dampens her coat but she is oblivious to the wet and cold, her eyes steadfast on the inviting plane of the kneeling ‘Teke’s forehead, an anvil awaiting a blow. |