The Sentinels old gypsy woman spoke to me

Deirde was a breath of fresh air – the exuberance of life that practically emanated from her was impossible not to mirror, and as the pale girl came upon him, his pumpkin eyes practically danced with affectionate mirth as she danced up to him.
 
Tipping his muzzle slightly to the left in warm welcome, the ebony male would soon tip his muzzle down, gingerly rolling his meal toward her. “Deirde,” he greeted gently, his tail sweeping the ground. “Would you like some?” He allowed a small pause between them, shifting his weight. “I was hoping to get to know you better.”