[If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together]
The moments seem to crawl past, if they are even moments at all. Time does not exist here, not anymore, only the steady intake and exhale of breath. Killdare is confused with his own actions, but he lingers there still, unmoving. If this were home he would like be paired with two or three females by now, with absolutely zero choice in the matter. Couplings made only to further the lines, to gain size, height, or whatever other atributes his father was seeking.
Wasn't the golden mare all of these things already? Funny how the world worked, he grunted, an offhanded realization. His own flesh pressed against hers, her fevered skin blazing warm to his. Her crown slipped further down his breast plate, until she spoke again, words melting like honey from her mouth. She says just the one word, his name, only his name. It felt like ice and fire in his veins, his insides burning and frozen all at the same time.
Her muzzle finds his mane, nibbling at him, and he does not protest. Killdare's sea glass eyes find the ones that search him, an uncertain gaze following over his entirety. All movement is robbed from him in those moments, even the ones that pull oxygen to his brain. Words fail her now, condescending to her nature, she mulls over them for too long. Golden temples again find his chest, pressing into his flesh she speaks, her feelings spilling out from an over filled cup.
His taught bodice loosens, breathing returns to him, and his eyes close to rest. A soft baritone finds its way past his ivories, becoming spoken word, "The nicest."He confirms, the words seem out of place, and odd sentence to come from a soldiers lips. It makes them no less true, and genuine. Bay visage dips, placing his muzzle against hers, sharing the air. He knew no greater sign of affection than this.
[Watch the flames climb higher into the night]
Dutiful Soldier|Captain of the Chamber