Marrow's nostrils quivered as she took in the scent of her new home. She did, admittedly, feel a little bad at how excited she was to leave the Savanna. How excited she was to break away from the life she once had, one that she felt was holding her back. Can you really call me your captor? The question gives her pause, and Marrow halts, considering it for a moment. She turns her head slightly, looking at him over the gentle curve of her back. She laughs, pursing her lips as if in thought.

"You tell me," she says, taking long sweeping steps back toward the water, but halts before the waves begin to lick at her hooves. "If I was a captive, I suppose I couldn't do -" she lifts a single hoof, hovering it over the water, a satisfied smirk across her pink lips.

"- this," she finishes, dropping it dramatically into the water, no doubt with a splash. She doesn't know how well he will take her teasing, it's a dangerous thing - probably. But Marrow has never played by anyone's rules but her own, even when she was young. Her nostrils quiver and she watches him, a playful glint in her pale eyes. Her heartbeat thrums in her chest like a captured bird, his reaction and whether he stopped her would tell her everything she needed to know about her new life. Was she a trophy, taken simply because he could? Or was Paradise really Paradise?