She positively preened at his response. In fact, her head lifted a fraction higher, a subtle glow warming her features, because attention - especially the right kind - always seemed to settle comfortably on her shoulders. Her love language was compliments and her vice was vanity; anything that made her feel pretty and wanted was a sure way to win her affections.
She breathed in deep, her teacup nostrils fluttering. There was a frosty cold on him - enough so that she nearly shivered. The smell of withering lingered just beneath, pungent if she paid close attention to it. There were winter-trees, too, evergreen and tall despite the dreary weather they endured. Perhaps her old home and herd had not been so different from his. If that were true, she would find succor in that. Despite making the conscious decision to leave her family for a new adventure, Ella cherished familiar - albeit new - sights.
“It never stays long,” she mused, her tone dipping toward something wistful, though she wore it lightly. “But I’ve always been good at chasing things.”
She bit back a wink, instead opting to cock a hind hoof in relaxation, her hazel eyes meeting his for a brief moment.
“No,’ she began with a breathy sigh. “I’ve heard tales of the islands - my family are northern mainlanders with deep ties to those northern mountains. I was feeling restless and decided it was time for something new.”
“So here I am,” she bobbed her head, her forelock flipping into her eyes, obscuring them from view.
“I’m Ella.” Her tone dipped to something low and honey sweet-smooth. “What should I call you, handsome?”
✨ ella! ✨
everyone lives but us.