Dior watches the male carefully. If she was being honest, the golden-hued female didn't expect much. What were the odds really that this passerby knew the whereabouts of a few random mares? And yet somehow.. he does? Recognition flashes briefly across his face before the male turned back to her. “Vogue…. she is bay and white, right?”
Her rosy lips part gently in an astonished expression. Dior takes an excited step closer to the white-laced stallion before she can stop herself. Hoof lifted for a second step, the mare's head bobs once, twice in a quick nod. Golden eyes search his face as if something there will give her more answers. Then, he says, "She lives in the Lagoon.”
The words strike her as much as a blow, freezing the dunalino in place. Her chest aches from the air stolen from her. Of all the places on this island chain of theirs, her mother was back in the Lagoon? The mare's head imperceptibly shakes back and forth, and her raised hoof returns to the earth below.
Dior had not expected to be faced with the prospect of returning home. Her family-- the trio of painted females that included herself-- had left the tropics after her father Diomedes died getting them out. She'd never thought about going back, especially after learning how most mares were treated there-- which made her all the prouder of her sire's actions.
She'd been quiet for a few moments now, but Dior truly cannot think of what to say to him. He could be lying, of course, but then how would he know what her mother looked like? A flicker of suspicion creeps along the mare's neck. Did he know Vogue because of Diomedes? Was Vogue there because the men wanted retribution for lost trinkets? Or did he know Vogue and was just lying about her being in the Lagoon?
The possibilities dizzied the dunalino. Even if she suspected the sabino was lying, could Dior risk passing up the off-chance that he was telling the truth? Something in her veins turned to quicksilver at the question, snaking through the mare until the sensation pooled to form a cool stone in her gut. No, she thought to herself, I can't.
Pursing her lips slightly, Dior assesses him with a scrupulous stare. "Seems pretty convenient, don't you think?"