She was swift. The yarrow leaves were easy to find among the prairie shrubs and grasses. She bruised a few leaves with a hoof to let the scent drift around her. She dipped her elegant head and nabbed several growing stalks. She easily trotted in a smooth gait back to him as he kept his gaze upon their surroundings. Quickly chewing the mouthful of yarrow she deposited the paste over the harshest of wounds and used her muzzle and lips to carefully press the crushed yarrow into them.
She stepped back to look over her work. Yes, once the paste dried and fell off, he'd be no worse for wear. He was strong too, he shouldn't even scar. It was then she noticed his unsettling gaze observing her instead of the land. She dipped her head to him, her shining mane cascading over her neck.
"All done, when the paste dries it should fall off and the medicine will..." Her voice faded as his gaze continued to rove over her, peering as if from beyond a veil and through her. She knew he wasn't blind, but his pupilless eyes were startling nonetheless. The filly swished her tail, uncertain about his intentions. She stamped her hoof instead of retreating or submitting to his commanding air.
"What thoughts are running through that stormy head of yours?" She huffed through her nose. Weeks ago she would have run away from such glances, or ignored them or placed a mare between such colts. But he was testing her, at least she thought he was. So she'd test him right back.
