Goldenrod
mare | 15.0hhs | buttermilk buckskin | of the lost island wilds
Standing steady with her honey eyes locked on Asmodeus, Goldenrod watched him. Her black tail hung limp against her haunches, but the pale clad mare did not mind that simple little thing as one black rimmed ear flicked forward. His words were ingested, chewed on, and then stored for later as a faint grin quirked her lips. She would be useful to him in the future, but for right now Goldenrod was content to just be a normal mare, one that trained every season and would grow as time went by. For now, she was to grow and age like a fine wine until she was laced with poison.
Nodding her head, the pale mare let her head shift to look over her shoulders. “Thank you.” Was her reply, but that did not last long all on its own as her head tilted back to look at him, one bright eye latching onto his face. “Don’t tell me that the rest of the herd are not coming.” Goldenrod had taken her time to get here and she was the only one. Even with her loyalty being noted, it made her skin prickle with frustration at the simple fact everyone else was only really here for Nyimara. She might have been the queen, but there was a time and a place to follow a silver haired wraith that vanished and never returned. Humming for a second though, the mare looked away once more.
“On the morrow.” She repeated, content and a bit excited to be trained. It would be fun to learn from Asmodeus and with that little bit of training she would gain from him, she knew she would get to watch first hand and learn how this stallion moved, worked, and thought. It would be a waiting game until they grew comfortable enough with each other to really see everything about him, but for now she would take personalized training as if it were her breakfast. She might puke it up later, but who knows.
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