a flair for dramatics, it seemed, was deeply embedded of her new “friend. bhaskara can hardly keep herself from rolling her eyes, though she was deeply relieved, as fjodur brushes past her and the narrow strip of sand, to fling herself into the meadow grass. the bay mare feels motherly almost as she stands, watching their surroundings carefully as her painted friend rejoices in the meadow’s differences from the dunes. she’d like to give fjodur time to enjoy the feeling of sturdy ground beneath her hooves, knowing how fearful she had been of the water, but she also knows that there would be plenty of ground to cover at the crossing in looking for fjodur’s company. she lets out a huff, half amused and half impatient, before chiding the little mare. ”your friend won’t be found in that grass, unless she’s even smaller than you are… tell me about who we are searching for, so that I can be of some use looking.” bhaskara tears her eyes away ground where fjodur had flung herself, beginning to search in earnest. when her gaze makes a full circle, back to the bobbing waves behind them, her heart clenches a bit at the idea that perhaps fjodur’s accomplice did not make landfall at all… what would she do then? the bay couldn’t bear the idea of abandoning the strange little mare to the crossing, though it was obvious the dunes were equally unsuitable. perhaps she would journey north, if they were unsuccessful, and see her installed somewhere she would be more happy. these thoughts were unnecessary, for her curled ears soon were drawn toward a hill some distance off. when her dark eyes turn to meet the source of the noise she can’t help but chuckle. thank goodness fjodur was only looking for one companion… bhaskara couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in the midst of more of these “passionate” beings. the figure grows closer at an alarming rate, much like when she had first been chased down by fjodur on the beach some time ago… and it is comical, for a moment, to see the blue roan ransack the fallen mare in an effort to raise her up, for there had been a few times when she herself might have liked to jerk the small mare around fjodur was being particularly mouthy, but when she realizes the true panic and upset the stranger feels, bhaskara steps beside her immediately, aiming to give her a firm shove backward with her slender nose, so that fjodur might have some space to stand and explaining ”she was fine, though she may not have survived your enthusiasm… are you all this… this excitable?” the tall lean mare gives an exasperated sigh, stepping back to give the pair their space. she would have asked the newcomers name but figured, if she was anything like fjodur, she would only part with such information if she wanted to anyway… |