ABRAXAS
The mare startled, and for a moment only stared at him: whether in awe or horror, Brax could not have been certain, but he fancied it was the former, and though his smile softened, it did not dissipate. Then the mare's blue eyes dropped to the ground, and she let the veil of her dark forelock fall over her face like a chaste bride. All right, so she was a little shy. No matter. She could not be any more difficult than Mercy had been to charm. That prickly, sharp-tongued mare had put Brax through his paces, but he had still come out of that situation as a boy freshly a man.
The mare introduced herself, furthering his hopes, and he parted his lips to offer her another compliment. Then, abruptly, she turned away. For a moment Brax thought all was lost, the joy on his face caving to naked surprise. Her body language was unclear: there was tension, suggesting shyness and uncertainty, but there was no outright apathy or hostility, and the flick of her tail beckoned him as she began striding away toward the trees. His eyes slid appreciatively over the curve of her hindquarters, but his ears twitched back and forth uncertainly atop his silver crest.
Then, her words sent his heart racing. The smile returning to his lips, he trotted after her with a merry flagged tail, arching his neck and blowing with excitement from his lavender nostrils. He came up alongside her, bumping the velvet of his muzzle against her shoulder, his insides quivering at the electricity of the touch, of her scent thick in his nostrils. Behind them, the roar of the falls dissipated, and the crunch of the dead leaves beneath their hooves announced their departure. The red and gold autumn foliage received them with a warm embrace, providing a certain amount of shelter and privacy in which anything might happen.
"Honey, you sure know how to surprise a guy," Brax said, his hazel eyes stealing sideways at her, "But consider me invested in wherever you're taking me."