Rue
Wildfire drew his head up, arching his neck and stretching through his body. On another horse, the stance would have been elegant maybe even beautiful, but Wildfire instead looked prideful and strong. He had his own sort of majesty lingering in the lines of his body, however his youth disguised it well. He only managed the look a moment, chin tucked and eyes alight, before he broke unable to wait for the standoff between the woman and himself to end. He whinnied, taking a few prancing steps closer to her before striking the pose once more.
Across the water Rue bit her lip softly to contain her laughter. The woman looked almost ready to flee, but the horse, he was looking for touch. The gentle bite of scolding, or the playful shove of friends, even the hesitant brush of fright. These things were usual, understanding, comforting. Distance was not. She willed her breathing to slow, her body to still, as though in a hunt. She hoped not to disturb the moment by distracting the two, though whether in hopes of benefit to the woman or to the horse was unclear.
When neither further commands nor the reassurance of touch came to soothe the stallion his head dropped low. He called more softly to the woman, nudging her hand ever so softly with his nose.
OOCI don't want to presume too much so this is a bit shorter. Hope it is okay.
Wildfire drew his head up, arching his neck and stretching through his body. On another horse, the stance would have been elegant maybe even beautiful, but Wildfire instead looked prideful and strong. He had his own sort of majesty lingering in the lines of his body, however his youth disguised it well. He only managed the look a moment, chin tucked and eyes alight, before he broke unable to wait for the standoff between the woman and himself to end. He whinnied, taking a few prancing steps closer to her before striking the pose once more.
Across the water Rue bit her lip softly to contain her laughter. The woman looked almost ready to flee, but the horse, he was looking for touch. The gentle bite of scolding, or the playful shove of friends, even the hesitant brush of fright. These things were usual, understanding, comforting. Distance was not. She willed her breathing to slow, her body to still, as though in a hunt. She hoped not to disturb the moment by distracting the two, though whether in hopes of benefit to the woman or to the horse was unclear.
When neither further commands nor the reassurance of touch came to soothe the stallion his head dropped low. He called more softly to the woman, nudging her hand ever so softly with his nose.
OOCI don't want to presume too much so this is a bit shorter. Hope it is okay.
Nightsong