Common

This girl is a gun, before you know it, it's done
And you'll be wishing that you crossed your fingers

t was not often that Marceline felt she had to get away from the Peak. Yet after Clarity had pushed back against her decree, the prime minister felt pressed to put some distance between herself and her new clan, the space allowing her to reflect on her words and her choices.

The young Peak mare had urged her to reconsider her decree, much to Marceline's surprise. The spotted queen could understand her concern - the Peak was meant to exist as an escape for the mare who desired nothing of the herd life - but still she found herself in disagreement with Clarity. What good was living a simple life if they were constantly being harassed and taunted by the Lagoon? If they were not taken seriously as a herd? If their numbers continued to dwindle until but a handful of them remained, unable to defend the home they'd come to know and love? If the Peak was to truly change the Islands' perception, it would require more than sitting idly by and living a simple life. It would require blood and sweat and tears, all of which Marceline were prepared to give at a moment's notice. She would turn her band of misfit mares into the fiercest vulcans the islands had ever seen.

But nothing would change without new blood in their ranks. So while she took the opportunity to use this quiet morning as a time to reflect, she also kept a keen eye out for any new potential members she could sway towards joining her. Marceline came to rest on the banks of a winding stream, the sky above a watercolor canvas of blues, pinks, and purples. The stars faded one by one as the sun reached over the dark ledge of the horizon, grasping the world in its golden fingers.

At some point in the early hours Marceline's quiet spot was encroached by another mare, her dark figure settling at the edge of the stream a short distance away. Marceline pretended not to notice as her companion lowered her head to drink. It would be uncouth, she thought, to force herself so quickly to the mare's side without first giving her a chance to collect herself.

Yet her plan of approach was foiled only a handful of minutes later when a loudly patterned stallion approached the silver-haired mare. Marceline felt a faint tingle of recognition at the back of her mind when she glanced up at him, but could not place where she knew the overo from or what his name may even be. Not that it mattered.

Tamping down her annoyance, Marceline continued to make herself look busy with her meal, teeth gnashing in frustration as the stallion came to a halt nearby. She was just close enough that she could hear his words with clarity, a handful of worn-out pick up lines spilling from his mouth. Unable to contain herself any longer, Marceline lifted her head and let out a loud snort, amber eyes rolling a full circuit around her skull. "Oh, chérie, surely you can come up with something less cliched than that." She taunted the overo, lips pressing together into a smirk as she took the handful of steps forward to bring her into their space. "A lady hears she is pretty a dozen times a day. Tell her something she doesn't know."

Marceline turned to the mare then with a cat-like smile, dipping her freckled skull in polite acknowledgement. "I am Marceline, if there are to be introductions."