It is obvious the moment she stops believing I have the answers she seeks; her tone darts away from being curious and commanding and shifts into dismissiveness with the confidence of a mare far more experienced than she seems to be. It makes me wonder where it is that she belongs.

"That's a shame," I murmur mock-somberly as she reveals that no stallion has such an honor, which reassures me that she is no stallion's lead mare. As she goes on to claim that she is a princess, I am able to deduce more. A princess means she is not a lead, but likely a child of one, and likely of someone without a plethora of children as no lead in their right mind would send out a precious heir on a mission as foolish as this without preparing them for the Lagoon. Again, a tricky subject. Sometimes leads were apathetic to their children going on to lead their own lives, and others were obsessively controlling about their children, especially daughters.

"Where at on Salem?" I questioned further with a tilt of my head, falling into step beside her despite her dismissal of my company. "I've been a little out of commission so I haven't heard that someone managed to subdue Salem into a monarchy."

Which wasn't exactly true. I doubted there was a monarchy, but insinuating that her leader - whoever it was - had managed to do that was a subtle bit of flattery. "I'm honored to meet a princess."

I let the end of the word trail off as I continued along at her side. I didn't try and close the gap between us or pressure her to stay - if she was claimed I'd be inviting more risk onto the brothers without realizing the consequences - but implying I wasn't about to leave her alone either. I watched the mare for a moment longer, sensing she wasn't going to cooperate unless I offered some sort of information.

Information that I still, of course, did not really have.

Eying her silvery figure with the pale mane and tail, I opted to take a stab in the dark. If I was wrong - quite possible since I had no idea if Natyre was a relation or a stranger - she would see through me, but if I was right, perhaps I could still wheedle more of her time and learn where she hailed from and what risk I would take in trying to keep her. But what I'd learned of this mare (or moreso, what I had inferred, rightly or wrongly), led me to believe that she was searching for someone that was important to her leader.

And what was more important to the droll denizens of the islands than family?

"Natyre, right?" I ask, tilting my head as if in thought. "She had a pale mane like yours, no?" I turned to look at her again, hoping that the possibility of the girl inheriting the gray or flaxen color of this mare would come out in my favor.

Stallion - Adult - 15.2 - Brown Overo