Freed from solitude and bathed in snowfall, he found the field without much struggle. It was her scent that called to him with the promise of a familiar face. More than that, curiosity quickened his step. She was near, the breeze offering him the sweetness of her perfume. Overhead he searched the grey and white clouds for the sign of her familiar alabaster figure. Black against the white washed blue stood out in sharp contrast, continuing his search. Admittedly he did not know his intention beyond her prolonged torture. Nearly a year ago she had gifted him with the gift of release - one that brought with it a son. The child bore his resemblance, but not much else.
Veering slightly to the right he broke through the veil of naked trees and into the large expanse of the field. Purposefully he pushed forward, his grullo coat dampened by the touch of snow. The frost would not aid in his search, he knew, her own coat matching the tint of it nearly perfectly. Relying solely on his nose he followed the trail, his eyes landing on her familiar figure almost instantly. There she stood beside a painted mare similar in color to himself. She was pretty, if he was allowed to think such thoughts.
Edging closer he smiled devilishly, Ilma's voice drifted to tickle his lobes. Polite as always, he noted. If he remembered correctly it was such an attitude that had led to his advantages. Curving around from behind her, he drew up beside the unknown mare, his eyes quickly connecting with the pale mare's.
"My, my," he crooned his eyes hungrily traversing along the curves of her figure. Beauty was all the interest she held for him. Shifting his attention to her companion he greeted her with a far more friendly expression. "Who is your friend?"
@[Nalia] @[Ilma]