You're not so adept as secrecy or slyness are ya, ma'am?
With another gasp, Rosemary startled, shied on her hooves, and heard the writing instrument clatter against the rocks without even realizing she'd dropped it. Her heart skittered in her chest as her mind caught up with what was said, where it was coming from, and her gaze again fell upon the figure lying on the beach. Or am I too pretty for you to keep your wits about you? She'd been so engrossed in her drawing, the gray mare hadn't noticed the little knowing smirk upon the figure's face until now, and with it Rosemary felt a red hot embarrassment wash over her from head to hoof. She'd been spotted--for knew how long now--and she'd been allowed to go on sketching like a silly, inspiration-possessed ghost. It was mortifying.
Ears folding, she struggled to make any sort of eye contact despite all her staring from a moment ago. "I- I'm so sorry," she stammered, wanting very much to stick her face into the sands and pretend this whole, awful ordeal wasn't happening. As it was, she hoped her sun-bleached mane and forelock were doing their best to hide her very visible embarrassment. "I didn't think I-" No, she most certainly hadn't been thinking--at least of nothing but how pretty he looked there by the ocean. "You just looked so peaceful-" And had that given her the right to capture--and interrupt--that moment for herself? "And your pattern-" Oh, Oriens help her, was she really going to comment upon his appearance?
She wasn't helping her case in the slightest.
Just go, before you make it worse. Any other defense died upon her tongue and she seemed to deflate, defeated by the situation and her own thoughts. "I...I should go." It was the best thing she could do for the stranger, remove herself from the situation and give him back the peace and solitude he'd obviously sought here beside the sea. Glancing down, her bound pages were just as she left them, the faintest out-of-place line indicating the moment when she'd been frightened and lost her grip on her writing instrument. Oh, and where had that gone? Gathering the pages up with a thought, she added another mumbled, "My sincerest apologies for troubling you," as she began a frantic search for her pen amidst the rocks, desperately hoping it would leap out at her so she could scoop it up, rendering herself mute, and could leave without any further embarrassing mishaps.
