She doesn't wave him off or shush him, but she doesn't answer. It's like the room suddenly has too many noises, even for how quiet it is. Even for how few voices but how many warm bodies, moving, swishing. Different registers though.
Marian stepped toward the center of the aisle, head up, if all of her still concealed, by the long cloak, by the mask. Steps nearly silent. Until she made a small clicking noise with her tongue, against the top of her mouth. Something that Caspian would quite recognize from the morning even. The unnamed horse behind her does, even, stirring and stamping irritably.
Her shoulder still frozen, head tilted for --
And then she was off. Across the small passage between rows of stalls, to another one. Where and It can't be colliding with equal force, neither enough to stop her steps from being very much just this side of a mad running dash, a shadow fleeing into further shadows.
no subject
Nothing. Horses. Nothing. Caspian. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Marian stepped toward the center of the aisle, head up, if all of her still concealed, by the long cloak, by the mask. Steps nearly silent. Until she made a small clicking noise with her tongue, against the top of her mouth. Something that Caspian would quite recognize from the morning even. The unnamed horse behind her does, even, stirring and stamping irritably.
Her shoulder still frozen, head tilted for --
And then she was off. Across the small passage between rows of stalls, to another one. Where and It can't be colliding with equal force, neither enough to stop her steps from being very much just this side of a mad running dash, a shadow fleeing into further shadows.