01-14-2019, 12:02 AM
Amidst the stench of countless rotting corpses (scenery, for all she cares), the scent of ice, royal blood, and stallion waft her way. She ignores them initially, though the combination enthralls the princess to no end. A single ear, flicked back to listen to just what this mystery man might do with her frail self with no one else around, twitches as she hears him stepping closer. Her head raises, though it does not turn; the point of her horn glimmers a warning, but it is a shame that she who needs it most cannot see it from where it sits atop her shapely head.
His mouth finds her backside all too easily. Without pause the Arabian mare hops, kicking up her hind legs to land a punch squarely to the male's underside; but he persists, and it is evident in her lazily blinking eyes and their lack of contact to his that she has no further intentions of fighting off his advances. Not in any ways that wouldn't please him, anyway.
As his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her withers, her ears pin, a brightness entering the silver hue of her eyes. At this point, as his husky voices washes over her like newly simmered water (unbearable, but leaving her wanting more), she addresses him. Tucking her chin to her chest, she twists beneath her neck to nip the firm bridge of the handsome stallion's nose. The clipped sound ringing thereafter makes her want to smile, but she refrains, preferring instead to simply breathe in the scent of her roguish pursuer.
Perhaps a daughter raised by a magician king ought to have had more manners; but the plague and many decades of solitude leaves her victim to the ways of old, and that much is evident by the way she now eyes the other, as he asks for her name. She pauses a heartbeat before answering, listening instead to the thrum of her own heart, and imagining the blood it now pumps spilling. Why it would do so she chooses not to decide.
"Xz-I-ah," she enunciates slowly, latching her eyes on to his, their depths a threat. "You must have duties elsewhere, to pass through this devastation." A twinge in her stomach and between her knees tells her all she needs to know about his current duties; but she feigns disinterest, blinking once and tossing her horned head to the wayside.
Emboldened by the male's expressive interest, the mare pauses, and allows a coy smile to lazily crawl across the length of her velveteen lips. "And your name is?" Not that it will do you justice, she thinks, snapping her own tail at the other's flank. Let him tease her; she will only come out on top for all his efforts.
His mouth finds her backside all too easily. Without pause the Arabian mare hops, kicking up her hind legs to land a punch squarely to the male's underside; but he persists, and it is evident in her lazily blinking eyes and their lack of contact to his that she has no further intentions of fighting off his advances. Not in any ways that wouldn't please him, anyway.
As his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her withers, her ears pin, a brightness entering the silver hue of her eyes. At this point, as his husky voices washes over her like newly simmered water (unbearable, but leaving her wanting more), she addresses him. Tucking her chin to her chest, she twists beneath her neck to nip the firm bridge of the handsome stallion's nose. The clipped sound ringing thereafter makes her want to smile, but she refrains, preferring instead to simply breathe in the scent of her roguish pursuer.
Perhaps a daughter raised by a magician king ought to have had more manners; but the plague and many decades of solitude leaves her victim to the ways of old, and that much is evident by the way she now eyes the other, as he asks for her name. She pauses a heartbeat before answering, listening instead to the thrum of her own heart, and imagining the blood it now pumps spilling. Why it would do so she chooses not to decide.
"Xz-I-ah," she enunciates slowly, latching her eyes on to his, their depths a threat. "You must have duties elsewhere, to pass through this devastation." A twinge in her stomach and between her knees tells her all she needs to know about his current duties; but she feigns disinterest, blinking once and tossing her horned head to the wayside.
Emboldened by the male's expressive interest, the mare pauses, and allows a coy smile to lazily crawl across the length of her velveteen lips. "And your name is?" Not that it will do you justice, she thinks, snapping her own tail at the other's flank. Let him tease her; she will only come out on top for all his efforts.