The sun feels magnificent.
Its warmth shines on her golden hide and she can feel it on her back, on the elegant curve of her neck, even on the pale blaze of her face. Her head is lifted and upturned towards the sky; she can sense someone is nearby (even if she can’t see his scowl, a horse wouldn’t need empathic abilities to feel its presence). Aela has never minded being admired, but this isn’t some smooth-talking brute who thinks that the palomino might be easily swayed into a certain kind of company.
Oh, no.
This brute is something else entirely, and Aela who has to keep her emotions in check the last few weeks for the sake of progress, finds herself intrigued. It’s been some time since she has truly tested herself (and isn’t that what she had taught Fyr? To allow powers to grow was to put them against the abilities of others to learn limitations and discover strengths?) and whoever he is, when she opens her blue eyes, she is pleased to see that he looks like a strong enough specimen.
Battle-hardened from the look of his numerous scars and solid muscles.
His spot, the pegasus growls at her, and Aela, not unfamiliar with the scowling breed, offers a small smile in return. ”Oh,” she murmurs softly, like she might actually acquiesce to his demand, and the lovely lines of her mouth even momentarily falter into a beautiful frown. But the slender creature doesn’t move away from her spot; there are no such spots such as this in Taiga and she certainly won’t be returning to that accursed forest until she is good and ready. She was kind enough to let him loom as close as he did, but with an irritated flick of her flaxen tail, Aela decided that enough was enough.
Her benevolence was spent.
She thought about lighting herself aflame, letting her aura take over to give the arrogant gray a lesson about invading personal space, but as her head tilts prettily to one side, Aela decides on a different approach. Her gift was there, shimmering on her unmarked coat in warning, ready to transform her into the thing the winged beast feared most or perhaps to overwhelm him with her favorite emotion: terror. ”Touch me,” she said in a breathy voice that was half-dare and half-laugh, as tempting an offer as much as it was a veiled threat said beneath her dark lashes, ”and you can have it back.”
@Ashhal
Its warmth shines on her golden hide and she can feel it on her back, on the elegant curve of her neck, even on the pale blaze of her face. Her head is lifted and upturned towards the sky; she can sense someone is nearby (even if she can’t see his scowl, a horse wouldn’t need empathic abilities to feel its presence). Aela has never minded being admired, but this isn’t some smooth-talking brute who thinks that the palomino might be easily swayed into a certain kind of company.
Oh, no.
This brute is something else entirely, and Aela who has to keep her emotions in check the last few weeks for the sake of progress, finds herself intrigued. It’s been some time since she has truly tested herself (and isn’t that what she had taught Fyr? To allow powers to grow was to put them against the abilities of others to learn limitations and discover strengths?) and whoever he is, when she opens her blue eyes, she is pleased to see that he looks like a strong enough specimen.
Battle-hardened from the look of his numerous scars and solid muscles.
His spot, the pegasus growls at her, and Aela, not unfamiliar with the scowling breed, offers a small smile in return. ”Oh,” she murmurs softly, like she might actually acquiesce to his demand, and the lovely lines of her mouth even momentarily falter into a beautiful frown. But the slender creature doesn’t move away from her spot; there are no such spots such as this in Taiga and she certainly won’t be returning to that accursed forest until she is good and ready. She was kind enough to let him loom as close as he did, but with an irritated flick of her flaxen tail, Aela decided that enough was enough.
Her benevolence was spent.
She thought about lighting herself aflame, letting her aura take over to give the arrogant gray a lesson about invading personal space, but as her head tilts prettily to one side, Aela decides on a different approach. Her gift was there, shimmering on her unmarked coat in warning, ready to transform her into the thing the winged beast feared most or perhaps to overwhelm him with her favorite emotion: terror. ”Touch me,” she said in a breathy voice that was half-dare and half-laugh, as tempting an offer as much as it was a veiled threat said beneath her dark lashes, ”and you can have it back.”
@Ashhal