Common

Though she did not conceive of such things herself, there was a part of Rethe that was instantly and wholly grateful for the handsome golden stallion who immediately took her bait. She could not tell if his rejoinders (or interest) were genuine, but she didn't really care. Rivalry (even if it was one-sided) was a social construct she was intimately familiar with, and it was a far cry more comfortable than being on an awkward first date, no matter how pretty the companion.

Beside her, Tefnut lapses into silence. Rethe wasn't entirely certain how to take the quiet considering she hardly knew the girl, but some primal part of her - the part of her that was all Fell, no Kohelet - straightened it's shoulders and licked it's lips, relishing in the feeling of being the one to control, to protect, to own. Even if it was just a moment, even if it was all in her head, even if it went nowhere, this moment had returned to her a sense of who she'd been before she'd let her past erase who she'd become.

"Oh, I'm sure you could use your imagination," she taunts back suggestively, eyes bright. One ear pricked toward the stallion while the other remained tied to Tefnut beside her as if tied by an invisible string. But though she spoke a big game, throwing out innuendos and making flirtatious comments, it is largely a farce. Apart from a single stallion she had briefly encountered in the Commons, Rethe has little to no experience with relationships beyond watching her parents' saccharine affection. So as his gaze travels suggestively across her figure and then up Tefnut's, her coat shivers beneath his gaze and her throat closes with a strange anxiety.

It was far too close to vulnerability for her liking.

"A little disappointment might be good for you,", she managed as she regained her metaphorical footing in the conversation, unaware of how her weight had shifted so that (assuming Tefnut allowed it) their sides remained touching. "Since it seems you've forgotten how to say please."

Her tail whisked across her haunches as her confidence refilled and the smirk from earlier formed again on her lips. "Repeat after me," she said, wickedness glittering in her bright eyes. "Tefnut, can I please come home with you and Rethe? I promise to be on my best behavior."

Any other set of companions in any other circumstance would have had no chance in drawing out this strangely playful, strangely confident side of Rethe. And yet here she was, bantering with the two of them as if she hadn't grown up largely feral in the dark forests of the Bay and then spent the rest of her formative years as a ghost haunting the remains of her family.