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A low chuckle greets my words, and slightly affronted, I half-closed my eyes in trepidation. The black shire speaks in deep tones, richly flavored and hued. So he does boast voice of velvet as well, and words that were as smooth and oily as the petals of the Lechirn flower, a flower that did not blossom in this land.
"Is it a game you seek? You speak like one much practiced in the art of... deception. Alas, I have traveled these many days without company from the fairer, lovely sex. You are certainly a sight for sore eyes, a beauty such as yourself. I have not seen one comparable to yourself these past few days, nay I'd say that I have not seen one so captivating in years." It is a game I play, and play it with a good hand too, but to tell him that would to break the fun that had only just begun. He lays on the flattery too thick, too buttery, and even a fool would know he wishes to play the game I seek. But I also savor the compliment, for why not? It appeals to my vanity, I will not lie. It is a game of words, of bantering, of back-and-forths with hushed whispers and sweet kisses, shaded glances and brief touches. But I do give him some credit. He had not blinked nor turned his head as I had looped around him easily, and for one as pretty as myself, that is hard indeed.
My thoughts run quicker and fleeter than the bounding deer-of-white-tail, but I remain silent for a moment or two, allowing himself a good pause to wonder. I am curious of his name, but it matters little to me. Names are merely another thing to call another. To me, I call horses what I will. I study him for another long moment, thinking. "Your flattery plays a heavy hand, but still, I cannot disregard compliments, even if they are emptier than the trees are devoid of leaves. So, black-horse-of-winter..." I take a slow, crushingly slow step forward, until I am level with his ears and my body feels like it is on fire. I run gray lips along his tall back, reach up my head to preen his mane. Triumphant, glowing, happiness trills a path through me. I will win this round, I am sure. Still, I tilt my head up until my slender neck reaches out, so my delicate muzzle is breathing right beside his ear, and I murmur in a husky voice.
"Mysterious thing you be, you flirt. But it is okay. I do not mind the presence of one as a fine as the night is cold."
"speech"
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