I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
The wry grin lazily adorning his sharply hewn features deepens as she sidles closer, curiosity overcoming any misapprehension she might have had. A misapprehension that would be decidedly appropriate, given his somewhat disreputable past. Not that he’s about to complain. Hell, that kind of misplaced curiosity is the only reason he ever got any attention anymore.
Of course, being a bit more sociable might help too. Fuck, might as well put that in the ‘too old for that shit’ category as well.
She seems to come back to her senses pretty quickly though. If it weren’t for his well-honed instincts, he might not even have noticed the suddenly more sensible ruffling of her feathers. Or he could be making shit up to suit his own fancy. Who the hell knows at this point. Not that any of that stops him from barreling on forward of course.
“Ahh, Ilma, love,” he rumbles, sauntering forward with all the grace of a well-trained warrior (not that he’s been training particularly hard, but when it’s the only thing you’re any good at, eventually it becomes second nature). “Seems like the wrong time of year for a pretty little thing like you to be out here all alone.”
(Yeah, he’s sexist as shit. C’mon man, catch up with the times.)
Slipping alongside her, he brushes his muzzle lightly against the soft feathers of her wing, a teasing touch meant to distract and beguile. Or freak her the fuck out. Who knows. He’s pretty much lost all sense of subtlety in his old age, so he sure as hell doesn’t. Mostly, he’s just winging it (heheh, so punny).
But hell, even if she did (rightly) decide he’s a bag of dicks and took off, at least he could get back to napping. I mean, this is definitely better, but napping is a good second.
Inching forward, he continues his light caress until his muzzle reaches her shoulder. Grinning wickedly, he finally whispers a response to her question, hoarse amusement in his soft tone. “I’m Ashhal, but I feel like you’ll probably end up addressing me a lot more as ‘Oh god!”
Darling Ilma, don’t you know awful horses most certainly don’t want you to fuck off? They only want you closer.
