Cold flesh flashed against his and the golden recoiled. He had more class than to go about with a kiss upon his cheek of blood red. Be minded that the golden pelt had been splattered with maroon. No, he pulled back for it came from this lass. Heated passion, and coppery blood were not sensations he enjoyed together. Besides, if the lass could not protect herself from whatever the heck of a mess she had gotten herself into, was she worth his time? But where else did he have to go at the moment. Besides a helpless maiden, easier pickings. He thought. Smile and harks trained on her, and earth eyes jumped at her shrill called. Then she winked. And she peaked from behind a mask.

Harks slid back at her twisted grin. It had taken the same turn that he’d seen in the meadow. She was getting her revenge. Head rose, and harks followed her back, but he did not move. Thranduil’s eyes followed her round. His body was a servant to itself and a chill ran down his spin as her lips met it. But she was a bloody wreck. One hark pinned further back. He needed to get that stupid girl cleaned up, or he’d end up looking like he waged through a war. Still her lips traced his spine. Her breath, cool against his steamed coat. What was she playing at? These were moves he should be making on her. Only the blood and gore of her shoulder, well ruined it. He was not one to find mangled flesh a turn on.

Up the other side she came, still silent as a lamb. Now both harks were back. He was not sure he liked this. Her touch was too soft, and seductive, eyes swimming with a grin. White dusted lips reached up to find his cream locks, tressled by the morning’s affairs. Then she flipped it with a giggle. Neck craned from her and he glared upon the female. It was not a girlish giggle, but twisted, as all else had been. No, this was not the same horse that had jogged to meet him in the Threshold. Or perhaps it was and she was a little more mad than thought. Still she pressed, finding her maw near his hark as her own snakes slithered out. Fool. Game. They were more successful than in the Threshold.

Caught. Whether fairly or not. She laughed and giggled, like a child, but a wicked one now. A devil’s daughter no less with some sick girlish view of this game, he admitted they played. She laughed and winked, as she seemed to do a lot. The Arabian lass was enjoying this far too much. Well, he admitted, just as much as he would. That brought a smirk to him. Watching her spin about before him, questioning, before touching her maw to his. He gaze followed her like rich men watch their strippers. That’s nice, do it again.

Handsome. Well. Already. Then turned tail, with only a playful glance. Looking after her, he caught himself in watching her sway. The lass’s beauty was not a lie in this game. Oh but her ways did do bother him. She was not his, and certainly he was not hers. That was made very clear by all of this. Not that he didn’t like the playful pats they brought, but if she wanted to drop the game, then she’s have to face the music too. Moreover, as she walked, it was true she showed her strength. She seemed to not wince or feel salt water touching raw flesh, but there was still the wounds to contend with. Standing in the ocean it dibbled down and colored the clear water around her. Seeming like her fiery coat color was spilling into the sea, only it was her blood. One hark slid forward to take her in. Babe. Fun. Oh he did like the sound of that, but she had forgotten, his mind was just as strong as hers. Just as she overcame that physical pain, he’d over come his lust. Besides, it wouldn’t be permanent. The slut and him could still make it a lovely night, they’d just have to come to some terms here. Still, know this, it wasn’t easy to refocus. He was a stallion.

Smile curled up from his pressed lips. “I have always enjoyed a bit of fun, darling…” He stepped towards her. Clear water washing around his cloven hooves. Damn that felt good to his hot flesh. But. Patience. Really he should get a medal for this. “…but I don’t play with damaged goods.” Even if they are rather hot. He stepped back. A big medal. Or, a fun night of it. Those were equal right? Gold dusted eyes looked the butch up and down as she stood in her red puddle. He looked up at her glass horn. “And let me guess, I should see the other guy?” He chuckled, throwing back his own laugh at her’s so loosing thrown. Lion tail lashed and the golden smiled broader. “Call me when you’re cleaned up, butch.” With that he turned to leave. Head stretched, and body chilled out still by her seductions. He had to admit she knew how to play that game. Those cream, red stained lips could slip out words like sweet tea, but that wouldn’t wrap him up in a neat bow for her. She’d need more. Think quick lass. He’s walking away, and that son of a gun is stubborn enough to keep walking. Just remember lass how his flesh tickled under your touch. Needs cannot be ignored much longer. Think quick, are you as stubborn as he? Too stubborn to let him go with out some fun?


OOC :: I love it! =D Please can we keep going, he'll come back, you just have to get creative. ;] And let me know if you have skype, I'm just all a-buzz with this!
@[Abishia]

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