Admittedly, she was doing plenty of it by the time she reached near enough to the shore that she could smell the salt upon the air. Fit enough to make the trip, it still winded her slightly, but she didn't stop to catch her breath--she wouldn't until she found herself a decent spot from which to make her sketches. Thinking about them again, her spring green eyes drifted to the bound pages floating along beside her, held aloft by her thoughts, while a writing instrument remained carried gently in her mouth. Of course, both made the journey that much more challenging as she tried not to dirty, break, or lose either object, but both were entirely necessary to sketch an ocean side scene. It was just a shame she hadn't given more thought to easier methods of carrying her supplies beforehand. I really do need to invest in a bag...
No matter. She was just about there, crossing the last bit of rocky landscape before the rocks would give way to sand and sand would inevitably give way to sea, when her eyes landed upon another figure. It was so unexpected that at first the dappled mare almost glossed over their presence, until the scene fully hit her for what it was. Rosemary stopped, stared, studied the individual laying upon a patch of seaside grass, posture content and yet alert, anticipatory of a good time if the little smile upon their face was any indication. The pose itself may have been simple, but the equine in question was absolutely dynamic, the pattern upon their coat immediately drawing the eye. Rosemary wasn't sure she had seen such a pattern before...but she was definitely going to make sure she didn't forget it.
Almost, in her inattention, the pages slipped, and with a short gasp she quickly refocused her telekinesis upon them, mindful not to bite too hard on the writing instrument in the same movement. Carefully--Oh, this would look so much more lovely from a little to the right--Rosemary attempted to sidestep in an effort to find a better angle. Even if she didn't manage to get the entire pose sketched, than she at least wished for a clearer view of the equine's markings to capture them to the full of their beauty. Only when she thought she'd gone far enough--and assured herself with a quick glance that she hadn't been spotted just yet--did she begin to set down her pages and try to prop them up on the rocks at her feet, where she could hold her pen more easily to sketch. She glanced again at the individual and smiled vaguely to herself, whispering, "Yes, this will do nicely..."
