The atmosphere held its breath, a pregnant pause that seemed to have wound a string so tightly around my lungs that I could hardly breathe. Then all at once it came to fruition in the form of a tawny brown rabbit, stepping harmlessly from beneath the elderberry bushes. I stared wordlessly at the creature, watched as it pulled its ears back and forth, testing the intent of the two equines with watchful brown eyes. The grey stallion had relaxed, mumbling speech I could not understand before turning to face me. If there was one thing we could agree on, it was that I had made a dire mistake in recent days. An infinite number of scenarios rushed through my minds eyes as I only somewhat listened to what he had to say. This could have been so much more problematic than it had been. What would Isra say? Suddenly everything stopped. Did Isra even know where I was? This thought caused my heart to throb in a manner that simply would not do. With furrowed brows I step back, not intending to be rude, though it could surely be perceived that way. It was a reminder I did not ask for, did not really want, not right now, not here. Not in my place of peace and solitude.
There had been a silent understanding between Amalie and I back home. I could do as I pleased so long as I stayed within a certain distance of the compound. Searching the present-day I realized with an ache that Isra, despite her near constant attempts at attending my needs, had never bothered to keep track of where I was. She always seemed to know. My young mind was unsure of why this was important, or why it even mattered, but in that moment it did. I shifted pale, moon-white eyes up to look at the stallion, having long forgotten (had I ever paid attention?) his statements. "Does your-" my tongue catches as I search for the word, any word "caretaker know where you are?"
.
.
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ooc; @Maximus
There had been a silent understanding between Amalie and I back home. I could do as I pleased so long as I stayed within a certain distance of the compound. Searching the present-day I realized with an ache that Isra, despite her near constant attempts at attending my needs, had never bothered to keep track of where I was. She always seemed to know. My young mind was unsure of why this was important, or why it even mattered, but in that moment it did. I shifted pale, moon-white eyes up to look at the stallion, having long forgotten (had I ever paid attention?) his statements. "Does your-" my tongue catches as I search for the word, any word "caretaker know where you are?"
.
.
.
ooc; @Maximus
