Ygritte
They exist in a secret world. Intertwined and lost with their own hearts and bodies. The salmon and sienna can not help but take her eyes from his face, his beautiful faace. She can not help but watch as his lips moved and formed each precious word. She feels her self tumbling, giving in. A dreamy smile blooms on her lips as he tells her of his birth and briefly of his mother. Ygrrite wants to know everything about him.
This feeling is intoxicating and she does not fight it. He speaks of the meadow and it as his home and the mare wants to be swallowed up under his embrace and in the scent of flowers. His eyes tell of a hunger when he meets her gaze. They are dark and full and the woman drinks them in as they speak. In their depths she can see herself and she can also see him and she can feel his passion. She shivers in excitement but in her moment she suddenly feels the stallion at her neck. She gasps with surprise but as quickly as he nibbles that he moves and dances away. Incisors clip her withers and she whinnies high, pulling up her front limbs in a little bunny hop.
Dark eyes flicker to the stallion's own, mischievous and dark as she happily takes his invitation to play. She sides near her stallion and lips one lobe gently before nipping it playfully with her own teeth before spinning away with a laughing squeal and putting distance between them before spinning around to watch. Long limbs lifting high and showy (and a little wiggle in that bottom). "Mandan, I wish we could stay here forever" The young mare speaks lightly, her heart is happy. He makes her happy.
The woman nears the bay stallion and sides close to him. The chisled crown extends to his withers and rests when their chests touch they are heartbeat to heartbeat. Boldly, she lips his withers with soft lips, little kisses. Never had this mare ever thought to act as such but it was soemthing he did to her. He shaped and molded her in his hands but she did not fight it. There was no other place she's rather be than with her stallion.
- Year: 233
- Season: Spring, Birthing
- SWP: None
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
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where the buffalo roam; any
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