"Promise means nothing without the drive to bring it to fruition," I answer drolly, feigning indifference as my gaze swept across the same salt flats as her own. Where she saw beauty and life, I saw boggy swamp; the droning of endless bugs; the heavy feeling of hot, wet air pressed close to my skin; the ever-present smell of rot; and the cloying stench of men.

The only thing that had ever made me want to stay was also the only thing that made me terrified to do just that.

Primly, my tail flicked against my haunches, neatly obliterating a particularly loud horsefly that had been about to land on my leg. "There is only one here with any kind of promise," I answer without looking at her, my gaze fixated on the distant oaks she'd come from, assuming that somewhere within lay the bed she shared with Garmr.

"And even he carries my doubts," I say, painting a smile on my lips as I meet her gaze again, cool distrust glittering in my eyes. "I know you're smitten, though, so don't let me dissuade you." A sassy tilt of my head and another snap of my tail, my dislike of the land, of my imprisonment, of my circumstances all welling up together and pouring out toward this unknown mare in sharpened words. "Whatever you need to tell yourself to survive another day as a prisoner is all fine by me."