The fledgling just gaped at him for a long moment, that war between baffled surprise and hot, fierce anger plain behind her eyes.
Then her expression closed off, became cold and impassive--incredibly vampiric, though she didn't seem to notice, and likely would not have appreciated it being pointed out.
"I see," she said coolly, returning her attention to Tierna. The mare shifted her weight between her back hooves a little anxiously, tossing her head and flickering her ears back toward her skull for a moment. "I wish you luck in your ambitions, Sharrow."
Without another word, Gwen all but threw the brush back into its little bucket, then turned sharply on her heel and swept out of the stables.
