A fork of lightning lit up the sky in the distance, little more than a sudden flash so easily missed without the accompanying thunder. The wind was picking up even more, throwing about the curtain of downpour so that at one point it bucketed down with such force that the ground turned to muck, only to almost cease before changing direction and start all over again. The rain was cold, enough to chill a creature to the bone; but he was hot. Every inch of the ebony skin was soaked, the blood washing away from hide and bony mask as if trying to purify him; the steam that rose in lazy coils from the broad back almost seemed a reaction to it, a denial and rejection of anything that might lessen the darkness of the ghoul.

If he did noticed the hesitation in her movements or the unspoken rejection in the trembling voice, the hellion didn't seem to care. No attempt at distancing himself from the girl was made; on the contrary he instead pressed himself closer, massive frame trying to match itself to her curvature as dark lips nipped the length of her neck. The hint of a smile ghosted across the half-hidden face when she leaned against him and he shifted ever so slightly to accommodate any extra weight she might add to his bulk; he certainly wouldn't have any trouble supporting both of them, compared to himself the rabbit was light as a feather and as fragile as a forest flower.

He wasn't sure what she was expecting, but contrary to any ideas Dröm might have, the stag was not generally cruel towards mares. Like most young stallions he was not one to say no if opportunities presented themselves, so to speak, but neither was he such a cruel bastard that he would force himself on anyone. Oh, she was right in thinking that he didn't care much about her - the little chestnut was a pretty face, a warm body and a sweet temptation alright, but as far as conversations and person-chemistry went he was quite unlikely to remember her as things stood now.
However... If she didn't want him, the girl had better be more clear about it than this.

"Yes?" he rumbled back through the tangles of her mane when she spoke his name, the deep voice hoarse and distracted over the howling wind. His quivering nostrils were full of her scent, the closeness of those supple curves a temptation he didn't wish to resist; he only raised to head marginally to better hear what she was saying, too busy snaking the long, tasseled tail around her rump to listen properly.


@[Dröm] so sorry for the wait

"I embrace the thorny rose to my chest and
fall into the crimson sea
I continue dancing upon the
piled bodies until I die"