The two chestnut mares walked almost stride-for-stride with one another; sisters, despite sharing no similar blood between them, and the irritation they wore mirrored the other. Brisa's red irises flicked to glare at Marin, her prideful stature only seeming to make her more irritable.

"Remind me again why you need me to attend with you?" She grumbled. The bright tawny mare would much rather be sprinting along the mountain ridges or burning some small dead branches at this moment.

The flaxen minstral didn't turn her head, continuing to walk with her head raised, eyes sharply focused ahead. "I need you here for my safety. Is that satisfactory?" She seemed less enthralled about her sibling's presence.

Brisa rolled her eyes, snorting with annoyance. Being such a philisophical thinker also made her sister quite paranoid. "At the springtime market? Surely you're joking."

Marin's dark purple eyes quickly flitted to glare at Brisa. "Then you underestimate how sharp my tongue is. Brute force isn't the only way to win your challenges, sister. Not everyone is appreciative of a victor in wit." The mares continued to one side of the isle of vendors where they would blend more easily with the plethora of other shoppers.

Brisa was easily distracted, scents of food and other spices tickled her nose, drawing her attention anywhere else but her sister. "Could we stop and get something to eat at least?" She chirped.

Marin almost immediately whipped around, "Is this a game to you? Are you really so immature you can only think with your stomach?" She sighed, knowing her sister's personality, she probably could have expected this much. "We will get something as we leave. For now, please make sure we aren't being followed..." she hissed.

Brisa seemed to lighten up a little, her steps refusing to drag as much as before. At least she would get something for her troubles ...