“Oh!” Why did she suddenly feel shy, knowing his name.
Bacardi… she thought, peering up through her eyelashes at him. “Um, I’m Apolline.” Did he like her name too? She felt so silly for wondering about it, but the thought occurred to her all the same. It had been a long time since she had shared her name and only had to worry whether or not they thought it was pretty or that it fit her. Before she’d escaped the borders of the surrounding kingdoms where whispers spread of her betrayal, Apolline had feared speaking her name.
Her red ears pointed at him, flicking out sideways at the question he gently proposed to her, then forward again. She was a young mare, sheltered with a new world laying out in front of her and inviting her to explore it. If an older, wiser, more world-learned stallion who’d faced trials of his own could look at her and assure her they could try to live again, Apolline wanted to believe him.
“Yes,” she whispered it in an emotion ragged breath, only because she was so taken aback by the way hope felt floating up in her chest. A smile spread over her mouth and she pointed her ears forward, bobbed her head and picked her legs up, prancing somewhat in place on the beach. She resisted the urge to stretch her neck out and put her whiskered lips on his painted skin (she was not
that brave!) and smiled excitedly at him instead. “Yes! I would like to come and try to live in the Thicket, Bacardi. Please.”
Oh, she
hoped beyond all hopes that he was right and together they could put their cursed pasts behind them and look toward a brighter, happier future.