quinn.
The Falls are not empty for very long.
A mare, lithe and spotted, pauses at the edge of the clearing to admire the waterfall. The expression on her face is unmistakably novel; the sight of the tumbling white curtain is a new one, Quinn assumes. He watches as she takes in the rest of the little clearing, appearing to spot him across the little patch of still-green grass. She smiles at him, then bends down to graze.
He does not say anything right away. The coffee-colored stallion casually angles himself to face her, but lets the sound of the Falls fill the space uninterrupted for a little while. The smile wasn’t exactly an invitation, but it might as well have been. Quinn had expected more resistance from someone staying out of the Common, but maybe this mare is new to more than just the Falls.
After a few moments of quiet, Quinn approaches, his posture relaxed. Though he doesn’t bother to hide his interest in her, he minds his manners, and halts with a few feet of space between them and nickers a friendly greeting.
“You looked a little taken aback by the waterfall a moment ago,” he comments, extending his white-slashed muzzle in an offer to exchange breaths.
“Are you new here?”
His eyes, pale blue against the dark majority of his face, sweep briefly over her body before seeking to meet her gaze as he retreats his muzzle toward his chest. He likes the blanket of white, and the scattered bursts of spots across it; an unusual pattern he’s only seen on the former Hills queen and her children, though this one has more color.
“My name is Quinn,” he adds politely, almost as an afterthought. Her smile toward him earlier struck him as naive, which is good, but it compels him to be more careful of frightening her off. He doesn’t want to risk coming on too strong, in case she turns out to be skittish.
stallion. spanish mustang mutt. 15.3hh. smoky black overo.
