I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
His teeth lay claim to her little body, snatching at anything they can reach, and mostly what they hunger for. The Arab twists her ears back obediently, paying the stallion a type of long-forgotten attention - then, in the next instant, she is cantering towards the great expanse of an unknown world, not waiting to find out if the titan is able to keep up. He would have to, if he wanted to keep her - and she knew he did.
The nips guide Trissy in her expedition across the foreign land too, but another man - one with more impulse control, and less boldness - would have found it far more... civilized to walk next to her, and to guide her in conversation, instead of driving her wordlessly as Ivar does now. Does she mind, however? Not at all. In fact, as the two begin to make their way from the Field and across all of Beqanna, Trissy relishes the tandem of their travelling. Feral and unkempt, she enjoys his primal stance as stallion and she as lead mare - it is in her blood, and it is addictive. Her pleasure in the arrangement is tangible.
As the glimmer of the ocean appears on the horizon some time later, Trissy slows from her steady canter - having needed no rests thanks to her condition and breed - and perks her ears behind her once more, maneuvering her lithe black form so that the two now do walk side by side, though the mare leaves a space between them. For everyone one of the mustang's steps, Trissy takes two. Her sides, coated in sweat with steam rising off of them in the cooling evening, heave gently as her breathing subsides. A smile (looking out of place and dark) brushes her lips as she examines how the stallion managed in their sprint though the land. It was telling - and the way his breath came more heavily now was satisfying. She had pulled that from him - and she would pull much more, in time.
"So, tell me." Her voice rings out low and husky, such an oxymoron to her diminutive size. "Are the rules the same as before, or are we crashing in like rogues?" Her tone is easier now, perhaps even with precious shards of humour and rapscallion. Although the kelpie's good looks are persuasive, and his touch beyond tempting, Trissy does not trust him with her gentler ways for those reasons; moreover, she doesn't truly trust him for any particular reason. She obeys him, as he found her first, and laid claim to her figure - but she was in need of guidance in this new land, and that fact was well on its way to changing.
Many more steps lay between the pair and the beginning of the island kingdom, and they walk far more slowly now than they had been before. Her nostrils are flaring, her eyes distracted by the flora and the sunset, too busy absorbing the creations Beqanna spat up to devote all of her attention to the kelpie. Eventually, however, her voice does come wafting back towards the stallion, almost like an afterthought, though he ought to be no fool and know otherwise.
"Now, tell me something about yourself." Her black eyes flash to him, their depths glinting tempestuously. "Or about the others." Her eyes move away; the words are not spoke in vanity or jealousy, nor in passive aggression or self-pity. Instead, the words have returned to their stoic gravity, and are only simple words from a logical and exacting girl. She expected nothing different from such a devilishly attractive stallion.
"In return, I'll tell you something about myself - or anything that plagues your mind." And there would be so much, she knew; about Before, and about the Beyond. Their journey towards Ischia is nearing its end, but there remains enough time for her to hear his response before they are approached by a perimeter guard - if they allowed themselves to be approached at all.
The nips guide Trissy in her expedition across the foreign land too, but another man - one with more impulse control, and less boldness - would have found it far more... civilized to walk next to her, and to guide her in conversation, instead of driving her wordlessly as Ivar does now. Does she mind, however? Not at all. In fact, as the two begin to make their way from the Field and across all of Beqanna, Trissy relishes the tandem of their travelling. Feral and unkempt, she enjoys his primal stance as stallion and she as lead mare - it is in her blood, and it is addictive. Her pleasure in the arrangement is tangible.
As the glimmer of the ocean appears on the horizon some time later, Trissy slows from her steady canter - having needed no rests thanks to her condition and breed - and perks her ears behind her once more, maneuvering her lithe black form so that the two now do walk side by side, though the mare leaves a space between them. For everyone one of the mustang's steps, Trissy takes two. Her sides, coated in sweat with steam rising off of them in the cooling evening, heave gently as her breathing subsides. A smile (looking out of place and dark) brushes her lips as she examines how the stallion managed in their sprint though the land. It was telling - and the way his breath came more heavily now was satisfying. She had pulled that from him - and she would pull much more, in time.
"So, tell me." Her voice rings out low and husky, such an oxymoron to her diminutive size. "Are the rules the same as before, or are we crashing in like rogues?" Her tone is easier now, perhaps even with precious shards of humour and rapscallion. Although the kelpie's good looks are persuasive, and his touch beyond tempting, Trissy does not trust him with her gentler ways for those reasons; moreover, she doesn't truly trust him for any particular reason. She obeys him, as he found her first, and laid claim to her figure - but she was in need of guidance in this new land, and that fact was well on its way to changing.
Many more steps lay between the pair and the beginning of the island kingdom, and they walk far more slowly now than they had been before. Her nostrils are flaring, her eyes distracted by the flora and the sunset, too busy absorbing the creations Beqanna spat up to devote all of her attention to the kelpie. Eventually, however, her voice does come wafting back towards the stallion, almost like an afterthought, though he ought to be no fool and know otherwise.
"Now, tell me something about yourself." Her black eyes flash to him, their depths glinting tempestuously. "Or about the others." Her eyes move away; the words are not spoke in vanity or jealousy, nor in passive aggression or self-pity. Instead, the words have returned to their stoic gravity, and are only simple words from a logical and exacting girl. She expected nothing different from such a devilishly attractive stallion.
"In return, I'll tell you something about myself - or anything that plagues your mind." And there would be so much, she knew; about Before, and about the Beyond. Their journey towards Ischia is nearing its end, but there remains enough time for her to hear his response before they are approached by a perimeter guard - if they allowed themselves to be approached at all.
Trissy
@[Ivar]
Do you want this thread private or open? I thought private but lmk and I'll change the header accordingly
