WC: 558. Just when you thought you were nearly caught up on replies.. mwahaha. Gotchabitch. XD
In silence she kept her gaze on the colt, though it wavered to the tall man beside her. A dash of red powdered her cheeks then, remembering every note of the word in the book her had given her. 'I meant what I did', it said. Giselle knew exactly what 'it' was. The girl had countless dreams that she could remember him in, and in her dreams he approached her, and heard him say those words over and over, but he left before she could find any words in return. Now, standing there, she still could not find those words.
The pale princess chewed on her lip absentmindedly, and nodded as he answered her question. As Heritage crunched down on the apple slices like any eager boy, she could not help but let a giggle escape her throat, putting a hand to her lips. "He's wonderful," she said aloud again. "I bet he will be a strong runner." Thoughts of the young colt formed in her mind, where everything was a safe and perfect world. The colt was a stallion, massive and proud, stamping his hooves on the ground as the wind ran through his mane. With his owner they galloped fiercely across open plains, and Giselle gave a soft contented sigh at how, perhaps one day, she could ride him too.
But her gaze lingered on the man, pale blue eyes dancing when his deep emerald gaze met hers. The girl gave a small gasp, and bit her lip again when she caught herself looking at him, lost in thought. 'Elle missed his question entirely, and blinked as she looked at his proffered hand. "What? I-- oh! Could I!?" Forgetting her troubling thoughts and his written message for just that moment, her face brightened and her curly hair bounced when she made the slightest of movements.
Without awaiting an answer, the young woman took the final apple slice and stepped forward towards the stall. She instantly became aware of the male's warmth, being inches away next to her own form. He smelled of old tomes and wild grass. Heritage nickered impatiently, and carefully Giselle leaned over the stall to hand him the last piece of fruit, though anxiously. He met her outstretched reach with his muzzle, as it brushed against her hand to snatch away the food. In a flash it was gone, and Giselle squeaked when she felt his rough, wet tongue for but a moment. The woman drew her hand away and straightened, side-glancing at the tall mottled male, the happiest of smiles never leaving her powdered face.
Without turning back to meet Silvano's piercing gaze, she kept her hands resting on the top of the stall door. "How long will it be before you can ride him?" She said the word with enthusiasm, her tail waving behind her. Ears flicked when some neighboring horses nickered, flicking flies away with a toss of their heads. She didn't let silence hang in the musty stable air for long, before she finally turned her head towards him, ringlets of hair falling in the motion. "I bet you could learn low speech with him. Wouldn't that be lovely?" Absentmindedly she raised a hand to push a strand of dark hair behind her shoulder. "Prince Ezekiel taught me how to say hello in horse. Would you like to learn?"
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