Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
| Darshan & lit a fire there instead |
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It was cold and empty here. As foreign to her as it was the very first time she’d set hoof upon any shore of the island chain. Shamwari had found her here, not so far from the Meadow. And with Shamwari, for a time, Darshan had found belonging. But he had gone, and Sanibel had been lost. The bright stars she’d been blessed with had gone out. All she had left was Larka. Sitara. Balor. Oh, how it tore at her heart, the way she longed for him, the way some deep, mysterious instinct warned her to keep her distance. As if conjured by her wild imaginings, her ocean blue eyes widen at the silhouette that appears in her peripheral vision, mere moments after she stops to catch her breath. Dark mane, rich brown coat, white patches, pale face. But though her heart jumps into her throat, as soon as she jerks her head about to focus on the approaching stallion she realises it is not her lover who’d followed her to bring her home. Far more white. Eye catching golden streaks. No limp to serve as a reminder of what had been sacrificed, for her. “Namaste,” she says softly in response to his greeting after a few moments spent cautiously scrutinising him. Before she has a chance to come up with some excuse to withdraw and depart, the stranger has the audacity to call her out, and Darshan feels as though he can see through her paper-thin composure. The perlino dun woman fears he might see that she’s all but falling apart. “I - I was just…” The kathiawari flounders verbally and physically, her weight shifting as she shuffles a hoof in an attempt to rid herself of a little nervous energy. From somewhere deep inside, she draws some courage, and with the tiniest spark of defiance in her eyes as her curly-tipped ears turn back, she stands firm, and pulls herself together. “I needed to get away.” The words slip smoothly from her lips, but she feels her heart tremble in its cage of bones, and dares not elaborate, certain that he’ll hear the quiver in her voice and wonder. Darshan has never been one to run, despite her delicate frame. Once before, she fended off a silver maned stallion with a predatory glint in his green eyes. This one, though, does not appear to have approached with the same intent. In fact, his amicable approach is almost harder for Darshan to come to terms with, and to run from kindness (again) would be cowardly of her. There are secrets that lie buried beneath her skin, and more than anything, Darshan needs to cast them out into the light. The Prairie was a sacred place to her, and she would not taint her home with her ragged and raging grief - she could not hurt her family like that. It was why she’d come here, why she’d fled. But still, those broken pieces were eager to remain buried. “I have a home, and a family,” she informs hastily, ceasing her restless fidgeting and standing rock-still, as if to convince him that she will not be swayed by him, nor moved against her will. And yet… Perceiving no malice in him still, and reminded of her grief with each aching beat of her heart, she softens, imperceptibly, completely. “But I… I don’t want to be alone here.” The words are a whisper, and she offers them with downcast eyes. “Please,” the slender kathiawari beseeches, beckoning him closer with a delicate dip of her muzzle. She did not want to go with him anywhere, but she didn’t quite want him to leave, either. |