no stallion
▻ no children (x no one) ◅
It is his squeal that ducks her back into the shadows and foliage, losing sight of him in the same way that he lost sight of her. It takes her a moment to peer back around, forelock over the most exposed eye from around the trunk making her lean her full face out from behind it. He is battered, drawing from her a bit of sympathy, but he is large and that scares her appropriately well. Her mother had almost been taken by a youngblood stallion not terribly much older than herself, after all.
She can tell when his gaze lands on her after two sweeps past her to the left and then to the right. The white skullike markings on her face were what had given her away, she knew, his green eyes seeming to get razor keen as they fixed on their target.
Her own two-tone eyes peek at him, watching his body as she had learned to do with her father and even sometimes her mother. "No sense of hiding now, shadow. Might as well get a closer look." She is not fool enough [read:at first] to follow such a flimsy beckoning. Even her own mother took one or two coercions to accomplish a come-to-me… but she did step to one side of the tree trunk between them, nonetheless. The skeptic in her dog’s heart could not compete with the puppyish curiosity that so easily penetrated it.
Her halo ears are almost a scope sight, encircling him for anyone that might have stepped in behind her at that moment. She only steps forward enough to break the line of the trees and brush, "It is not smart to get a closer look." Anyone who was that badly beaten must be looking for trouble, she thinks. Handsome or not, she was not a filly anymore and while he was pretty to admire, she is too flighty.
"You may not want to stay here long. My father will not take your injuries into consideration - we’ve had too many attacks." Her voice is soft, but somehow it carries, like a whisper with tone. She does not lack a voice like her father, nor was she always as quiet as her mother, but there is purpose for the quietness she adopts. She offers that warning with a matched insecure flicking of her ears and even a glance over her shoulder to emphasize her intent to not see him trampled by her sire.
OF TINUVEL’S FORESTED BAY
▻ two years - curly eared desert mutt - black sabino - 15.1 hh ◅