”I call fraud”. With the accusation hurled into the crowd- above the jeering, above the chanting, Castalla paused mid-step and snaps her head up straight. One ear twitches, twists, seeking out the words spat from a maddened tongue. “Ha!” She barks a laugh, a smile curling across pale lips as she turns around to face her accuser, a predator in the skin of a prey. Only there is no denying that she is a predator when you look upon her form. Though be it not evident from the cream coat, the slender body and long blonde hair. No, her ferocity is buried in those icy blue eyes, slumbering in the precision of her movements as though held at bay by silken chains. She fixes the man with a look that had sent so many running. But a shadow intervenes, stepping across her line of site. Not a shadow- a stallion. Carved from darkness and onyx, crowed in blackened spikes with only pale brindling and pinky scars interrupting the ebony smooth. She cocks a brow with mild incredulity, tipping her head to one side in a manner that can only be described as wolf-like.
Were she another woman, a lesser woman, she might smile serenely or shyly at the man’s intervention. She might preen at his masculinity, feel a flush of warmth and bat her eyelids. But Castalla was not that kind of woman. She was the kind of woman born into a world where she had to prove herself time and time again, prove that she was capable of ruling as an unmated female, prove that she was powerful despite being a woman. It had come with it a cost and that was her unwillingness to accept help, particularly from a male and most certainly not when she could deal with it on her own.
The pompous man who’d yelled out to across the crowds had melted back into the stamping hooves and raucous cheering. But, as her icy blue eyes swept the crowd, heightened by her magic, she was easily able to pick him out, the look of indignation still wrought across his features. She slipped easily among the bodies, small and unnoticed as she crept up on him. At his back she allowed her voice to permeate the noise, a dagger cutting through the cries.
“And how exactly did I commit fraud, hmm?” The stag turns around with a start, finding himself face to face with her. “Are you intending to suggest the man you bet on threw the fight, or that I somehow, magically cheated?” She releases that iron-tight grasp on her magic, allowing her teeth to extend and her eyes to become more canine as she grins dangerously. The steed backs away, pushing into a crowd he hopes will swallow him up. He fails but Castalla pays him no further mind as he sinks into the shadows the smell of fear rank across his skin. Instead she seeks out the stallion who’d cautioned the sore loser, picking out his obsidian form far more easily. He’s distanced himself from the blood-stained ring, from the hustle and bustle of those yelling and catcalling, fixated upon the equines battling it out in the ring. She paid little attention to them, noting only that the shock of her sudden and easy victory has swiftly dissipated. The crowd was a fickle one, chained to the need for entertainment.
This time she approached to be seen, forcing her way through the sea of bodies rather than slipping nimbly between them. There was much to be said of someone who could be anyone- who could play any role, acting in anyway. It was both a curse and a blessing, to hide behind the walls of a dozen different personas, to succeed in any situation by simply being what was expected, what was wanted. Yet you could lose yourself in the many faces, become so practiced at acting that nothing came naturally. She had nearly done that once- become so invested in a mission, a cover, that it took months to get herself out of the same headspace. But here undercover was redundant, even if impression were not. She could be truly anyone because no one knew who she was.
“I appreciate your effort on my behalf but really I don’t need anyone to stand up for me. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with self-important idiots on my own, thank you.” She calls out upon approach, her voice snaking across the noise. He was even bigger up close, towering many hands above her. Not that she was in the slightest bit intimidated- she’d just proved her ability to take on anyone bigger than her. Internally she can feel her wolf purring, noting how handsome his face is, how muscular his body. Were she entirely alone she might have rolled her eyes at. But she was not.
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