Falls

For what felt like a few heart beats that Xiomara had been upon the beach, already someone was calling out to her. It was not very loud, though it held the warmth of familiarity. Briefly, Xiomara wondered if it was Angel. Had she finally found the buckskin stallion? But the moment she turned her skull face to see the black stallion, her own heart dropped. Hope had made her deaf to the sound of his voice, and she realized that this male had sounded nothing like the father of her last foal. Still, the once Queen did not allow such feelings to pass upon her face. Her eyes dulled from their curiosity, returning to that sharp frigid gaze she always wore. Only, she did not pin her ears at the stranger. It was clear now as she looked at his dejected face that he had clearly thought she was someone else as well. How strange that it reflected the way she felt on the inside, even if she didn’t allow hers to be seen so openly.


His polite smile finally broke the ice that seemed to freeze her hooves to the ground. Xiomara strode over to the stallion. She did not carry herself like a mare who was just another number in a herd. A habit that the warrioress could probably never break. Even as she stood before him, shorter than him, Xiomara still managed to somehow make herself look bigger than she was. As she appraised him, it might even be taken as her looking down upon him. “Don’t worry.” she greeted him. “You’re not the first stallion I’ve disappointed, nor will you be the last.” Xiomara did not leave it very clear by her tone whether it was supposed to be a comforting comment, or a cutting one. “Is she the one who brings you here so early in the morning?” the mare cannot help but ask.