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11-09-2013, 12:54 PM
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| He did not expect someone to join him so quickly, in a territory that was so vast and seemingly not that busy. But, indeed, there she was - a black mare, winged like he, elegantly striding toward him with long delicate strides. Antero drinks her in, his milky eyes analyzing the lithe outline of her frame, the shimmering expanse of her black coat, which was flecked with sunlight like the light of a thousand stars. There is a certain mischievousness in her eyes - a certain intelligence that he could not quite describe. It was mesmerizing, for the moment, the obsidian mistress who now halted within a few yards. Antero ruffles his wing feathers slightly once the expanse of her left wing shades him. An interesting gesture. She speaks, then, her voice a melody of smooth and feminine tones. But there is something beneath it, that honeyed sweetness, something that piques his interest in her even further. Normally, the bay was not one to trifle with the affairs of mares and romance. It was not his training, nor his upbringing - he was a warrior, first and foremost, and that mentality was something he carried with him constantly. Now, though, it seemed like he could allow his attention to momentarily divert - what was the harm in a little bit of back-and-forth? Where was the trouble with flirtation? He was getting older, by the day, and perhaps it was time that he actually began to enjoy the smaller aspects of life a little more. After all, Helovia seemed to be a place at peace, and at the moment, he couldn't see the need for the skills of a soldier. So yes, indeed, he would play this game. "Appreciated," His short-worded response, in his deep timbre, was directed at the mare, "Yes, I have just arrived. I presume you are as well?" He straightened his neck in her direction, extending his nose to her. "Antero." |
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