pull up the ladder when the flood comes
You’re right to hesitate.
Vihar’s ears snap towards the voice, and her green eyes turn to him with suspicion without moving her head. The stallion who approaches her along the line of the Peak’s territory is oddly colored, his coat possessing a striped appearance she hasn’t seen before, slashed with white. Some of Vihar’s annoyance at the interruption of her thoughts is replaced with curiosity, and she turns her face toward him, looking at him more deliberately. He gives some speech about the Peak mares and their holier-than-thou attitudes, and Vihar rolls her eyes — she won’t admit that she doesn’t have much reason to disagree.
“I probably wouldn’t have lasted very long,” she confesses, retrieving her singular hoof placed in the direction of the mountains. “I don’t consider myself any better, but…” she shrugs. “‘Justice’ is a joke.”
She shifts to face him truly now. She does not attempt to hide the way she looks over him. Had he not sported such an unusual pattern, she might have run him off sooner; then again, he hasn’t gotten too close, so maybe he’s not so stupid as most of the Crossing stallions. She lifts her muzzle and scents the air, nostrils fluttering. “You’re from Salem,” she states. “That explains a lot. What are you doing out here? This isn’t exactly the place to pick up lonely mares.”
Vihar’s thoughts have been so consumed by Hex and Namir that she finds herself unable to care exactly what this stranger's motives are for approaching her; she is just grateful for the distraction. So long as his presence doesn’t suffocate her like so many others during the Fall, she’ll accept the company. She relaxes a bit, cocking a hind hoof and swishing her mahogany tail half-heartedly across one flank.
mare | classic champagne dun roan tobaino | 14.3hh | Solomon x Nadja