She is breathing a little hard, but the stallion makes himself known loud and clear - clear enough that she whirls on him as he stops and says something she can’t quite catch all of, raking teeth over her shoulder. The gesture is all too well known and she flattens her fiery ears down into an equally fiery mane. She doesn’t much like her odds, the fact that this spotted monster that towers over her could wipe out any arguments she might make with just about no loss. He is almost three hands her senior in size and she was too young to be any real competition in a fight.

His introduction is hardly something she values, but she is not so stupid as to challenge him either. He tosses his head towards the colder of the islands and says something about a King, though she is not quite sure why he would be saying that this King would be happy to see her. "I am Aine." It is a begrudging tone that she takes with him, a flicker in her left haunch more than telling the tail of her itching hooves. When he snakes his head down and starts after her, she is compelled forward, moving as swiftly as her legs will allow.

---

Her swim had been made during the fall and the coldness of the water had begun to rise - leaving her shuddering just a little after she had already shaken herself free of the water. She looks the very part of the wildwoman, but somehow the appearance suited her entire picture. Her movements as Solomon snaked her onward were a fanciful extended trot, nerves locking her movements and exaggerating her steps. ‘The King of Tinuvel’ he had said and if she were inclined to thinking of social importance, she might have been flattered to become what seemed almost like a new-bought gift. For now, as they neared where Solomon intended her to be, what she imagined he thought posed her to seem of best value, she snaked her head back towards him and snapped her teeth bitterly. "You are too big for a fight, but I won’t be egged on any further, so help me," she hisses under her breath.

It did occur to her that to be seen in so unseemly a mannerism as bitterness might not endear her to her captors or incline them to treat her civilly, so she does not make purchase in that attempted bite - but when her head swings back to it’s normal place, her haunch flickers again. "So if I am to be bartered off, the least you can do is explain what worth is supposed to be found in me."