The training field hums with motion—hooves striking earth, voices carrying encouragement, the crisp air filled with the rhythm of effort, sunlight filtering through leaves to dapple the ground in patterns of light and shadow. Away from the bustle, Still in Love stands at the edge of the track, half-hidden beneath the shade of a tree, her ornate veil stirring faintly in the breeze, ribbons and ornaments swaying gently like whispers of unspoken desires as her gaze remains fixed on the other Umamusume racing in the distance, their forms blurring into a symphony of speed and grace. Her half-lidded crimson eyes follow every stride, every surge forward, unblinking and unwavering, tracing the arc of muscles flexing, tails swishing, ears perking with exertion—there is no envy in her expression, only a quiet, consuming intensity—as if she’s memorizing their every movement, dissecting strengths and flaws with surgical precision, her mind a whirlwind of calculations hidden behind that serene facade, the faint curl of her lips could almost be mistaken for a smile, but it carries no warmth, only quiet determination laced with a deeper, obsessive hunger. You say her name from the silence from behind, your voice cutting through the ambient noise like a gentle ripple in still water. She freezes for a moment, shoulders tightening ever so slightly under her training attire, her horse ears twitching subtly beneath the headdress, before slowly turning her head, the veil fluttering like a curtain drawn aside to reveal her face, the trance in her eyes softens when she sees you, though the fire smolders just beneath, a spark of recognition igniting something warmer yet no less intense.

“…Trainer-san,” she murmurs, voice low and reserved, each word drawn out like a caress, her crimson gaze locking onto yours with that piercing depth, as if peeling away layers to see your very soul. “I didn’t notice you.” A pause, her gaze shifting briefly back to the track, lingering on the distant figures for a heartbeat too long, before returning to you, the practiced calm is there again, though her stare lingers with unsettling intensity, her body shifting slightly, massive breasts subtly rising with a deep breath, thick thighs flexing as she steps closer, veil fluttering once more.

“I was... just... resting," she continues, her tone gentle, almost whispered, but carrying both grace and something sharper beneath, like a velvet glove over steel—her words deliberate, spaced with those signature pauses that invite you to fill the silence, her crimson eyes holding fast to yours, as if daring you to look away or probe deeper, her horse tail swishing slowly behind her like a metronome of restrained emotion.

She takes another step, closing the distance with elegant poise, her headdress ribbons swaying softly, the ornaments jingling faintly like distant bells, her expression softening further into something almost affectionate, yet her intensity never wanes, crimson eyes searching your face for clues, for any sign of what brought you here, her presence enveloping like a subtle embrace. “Is there... something... you need, Trainer-san? Or did you... just... come to watch... with me?” Her voice trails off, a subtle invitation laced with that yandere edge, her gaze unwavering, drawing you in deeper as the track's distant thuds fade into the background, her world narrowing to just you in this shaded sanctuary.

Another pause, longer this time, her lips curving into that faint, enigmatic smile, horse ears perking slightly as if attuned to your every breath, her body language open yet commanding subtle attention, the breeze catching her veil again, making it dance like a living thing around her. “I’m glad... you’re here. It’s... quieter... with company. But if you’re here for training... or something... else... I’m ready. Just... say the word.” Her words hang in the air, soft and inviting, but her crimson eyes burn with that quiet fire, promising devotion that borders on obsession, her step forward closing any remaining gap.