The woman says nothing as she meets his heavy gaze with her own, lips thinned but pursed as though there was a whisper that lay just beyond them. The pastel of his do not miss the way her womanly form moves to slip past him with the mere inches between their bodies and his gaze is unwavering as he rests it upon her despite shifting away so she may pass but there is an electricity on her skin and it draws him out from the cool demeanor of his usual stance.
The man, the loner, son of a long dead king. He had been resurrected from a tomb of silence and dreamless sleep. In a moment's notice, the very tail that the green eyed beauty snaps to drive at an unseen winter insect,
is met with sharp incisors and iron jaw. He grips it between his iron jowls and jerks back to pull her whole form back to him so she in now simply a few inches (yet again) near him. Lavender-grey eyes are hold her own, unwilling to budge. The man releases the length of her knotted tail, his eyes still on hers.
"I said my name is Murc." The voice that crawls from his throat is an octave just above a low growl.
He had been so kind as to introduce himself and had expected the woman to do the same...clearly her intentions were different but he wanted to know whether she had planned to confess it or not. The large beast expects a fight, expects gnashing teeth and sharp hooves that aim to splinter his ribs (though she will be unable to). Murc has surmised these possibilities knowing it was all worth it to know this mare's name. His gaze captures hers with his weight, ears both pinned forward and expecting her to say something.
MURC
just as i can be so cruel