Common

done a lot of things wrong; loving you being one

Hollis doesn’t get much time spent in peace. Almost as soon as she has lowered her head to eat, loud crashing sounds in the underbrush ahead. She pins back both of her dainty golden ears, steeling herself for a fight. She’s still unsure what place she has come to, but the turning leaves and the biting chill in the air tell her winter is fast approaching. Hollis knows well enough that competition for food can get scarce in the colder months, and so she’s already on edge. What if whatever stallion it is that owns this land takes poorly to her intrusion? Or is bothered enough by her theft of the grass below that he resorts to violence? She’s not anywhere close to fighting shape, exhausted and salt-crusted and somehow both exhausted and alert. The adrenaline, probably, but it has Hollis feeling off-center and fragile, like the tiniest thing could set her off. So the chestnut stallion crashing into her secluded little clearing has her taking a frantic step back, a panicked little yelp slipping from her throat before Hollis can bite it back.

Hollis freezes, and he does too, which gives long, fraught moments for her icy gaze to catalogue what she sees in front of her. He’s young, taller than her by a significant amount, with a reddish brown coat and lighter mane. The most striking feature, though, is the jagged, angry scar marring his handsome face and drawing attention to his orange eyes. That scar frightens her - to be so young, and already in possession of such a wound? He must be fierce indeed. Where she comes from, that would be the sure sign of a stallion who can hold his herd and will do so through blood. That...isn’t an idea she is overly fond of. What if he expects her to stay with him? She’d only just escaped her first bout of captivity and nearly lost her life in the process. Hollis takes another step backwards, staying as silent as the stallion in front of her. Every muscle in her body is tense to run, and while she doubts she can get very far in her condition, she has to at least try.

Before Hollis can make a decision one way or another, she catches the sound of another approaching. Great - twice the amount of people to run from, so her chances of getting out of this unscathed are looking worse and worse. The clearing is still silent, the staring contest between Hollis and this threatening stranger unending. That is, until, the other form breaks through the clearing. It’s….a mare? A young one, at that, perhaps not much more than a yearling. She’s heavily built, shorter than the stallion but taller than Hollis. Her coat is a rich caramel, shot through with white in a curious, mottled pattern Hollis has never seen before. Once, the presence of another female would have put her at ease, but Hollis has learned her lesson in assumptions. The mare is tucked in close behind the stallion, face popping up over his back to greet Hollis. She blinks, unsure of what exactly to make of this whole situation. They’re poorly positioned for any sort of rapid approach or an attack, the way they’re all tangled up in one another. She doesn’t assume that means they won’t attack, though, so Hollis doesn’t relax. She doesn’t move any further back, though, instead turning her attention to the mare. Hollis blinks at her, and then offers, “Hi…”Her voice is rusty with disuse and she coughs before desperately lowering her mouth to the creek below, dragging in greedy gulps to soothe her parched throat. Her gaze never leaves the pair before her, ready to flee at the slightest hint of motion. “Where am I?” she finally asks, when the silence persists. There’s little more she can do than worry until she has some sort of basic understanding about what sort of place she’s washed up at.