In their brief silence, the bay dun listened to the sound of the falling snow. She couldn't decide if it was tinkling than anything else, like a feather-soft version of raindrops. The snow caught in the tuft of her ears, feathering her eyelashes, the bulk and strands of her mane and tail. Briefly, she wondered how tall snow could pile on one's back if one never moved and the snow never stopped. Likely not quite high she surmised, knowing how easily powdered snow could shift or blow away. Would a snow ridge on the back be amusing? It'd be like carrying a mountain range.
These were passing thoughts for Ararat. She liked to think and consider, liked to imagine different things even if they weren't likely to occur. The stallion spoke and moved, attracting her attention once more and promptly dissipating the quandary of carried mountains. The words he said brought yet another smile across her dark lips. Her copper eyes were alight with enjoyment. "A walk would be nice," the mare stated amiably. "It'll keep us warmer anyway." A nod went in his direction, gaze lingering on him as the mare slowly angled herself around and past him.
The bay had decided to spontaneously take the lead. As well as this was going, she hardly thought it sensible to just go along with wherever he led her. Despite his general relaxed demeanor, it was smarter to keep some kind of guard up. Dark ears pricked curiously forward. Would he be content to go along with where she steered them? Some stallions didn't like taking directions or taking a backseat to things. She'd come to know that quite well. She paused after a stride long enough for him to turn and join her. The moment she would feel the presence of him next to her, the mare would walk on.
"I'm Ararat, by the way."