THE DEATH UPON HER EYES || Lenore
She lifted her own, somewhat darker nose and scented the stallion in return. She mimicked his gesture and then turned wild eyes to look in the direction of his own gaze. It wasn't until he question who that she realized he was looking for her father. She cast her gaze back to him and shook her head quickly, wild hair clouding her gaze for a moment with the gesture. He though her father was wandering around nearby. For a moment her own heart stopped and she could almost feel panic coursing through her system. She knew, however, that her father was dead. Too many people claimed it to be true and no one had seen him since the day her mother had been rescued. Surely if he were alive, he would have come for her, no? As unpleasant as the thought was, it was true. Her father had wanted a progeny and he'd chosen her mother to help him make one. He would not have left her with her mothers herd."Dead." She piped up hurriedly, but softly, as if her father might hear and rise right back from the dead. "My father. B-but I know I look just like him, but I'm not like him. They only banished me because I look so much like him and that scared them." The words tumbled out breathy, as though she felt the need to defend herself so this new creature did not back away. She pressed her lips together and took an awkward step back, trying to give him space to decide whether he wanted to continue this interaction or not.
There's no end to your pathetic disposition, is there? Her internal dialogue snapped at her from the back of her mind, a sign of his own dissatisfaction with out inept she was being. She blinked and tried to still the rapid, nervous thunking of her heart in her chest. She'd said too much. Her inexperience with holding any conversation worth while over the years had her wishing she'd just kept her mouth shut and stayed far away. She swallowed relexify, wishing she knew what to say to look less a fool to the male. She blinked and almost absentmindedly offered, more quietly and controlled, "My name is Lenore." She sank into herself, leaning back onto her haunches as though the water beneath her feet would carry her backwards with no effort on her own behalf. She watched him and waited. She waited for the rejection. She waited for him to realize who or what he was dealing with and to back away just as everyone else had in her years of forced solitude, of which she was quickly finding herself wishing to return to.
She was beginning to question why she'd ever approached him. Her nerves were on edge and she wanted so desperately to be around someone else, but not just anyone. She wanted to be around someone who wanted to interact with her. She didn't have the first clue how to go about discerning whether someone wanted her to approach or not, for usually they chased her off before she'd even noticed others nearby. He, however, had looked directly at her. Maybe it was foolish, but she'd not waited for an invitation to approach. Her heart and mind wanted so badly to be near someone who was not disgusted by her, that she wandered right over and made a complete idiot of herself.
HISPANO-ARAB | MARE | 5 | SILVER CREAM CHAMPAGNE DUN | NO HOME