The vixen is seductive, a delectable bite of horseflesh who's skin crawls with seductivity. Caleb is not immune to this, and hunger feeds into his ears as she circles him, her steps slow and precise, as if she knows he's up for the chase. His ears rotate on his large cranium, always having one angled at her.The succulent perfume of her body snuck into his longs and his nostrils quivered, neck arching and eyes trained on her. His feathered tail whips around behind him as her words erupt into the tense air. She taunts him. Her voice smooth and sweet, sickly sweet. It just so happens that Caleb is in the mood for sweetness. There are many things she wants, she claims. Caleb can help her with one. She can help him with one. His skin vibrated with energy and a muscle ticked in his jaw at her words, his reaction was that of a starved man to food. Though, he wondered if they would waltz before indulging in each other. Secretly, he hoped they could get right to it, and do it over and over till neither can, until they are sweating profusely and breathing hard. He wanted to be exhausted. She could give him this. He could give her that.
"Come closer, Uccellino." He whispered, Italian falling from his lips in the form of a graceful nickname. "Let me fulfill your desires." His voice is thick with seduction, his deep tenor tones giving him a masculine edge, but the thick need of his words makes him seem raw and rough, primal. She winks, a flirty gesture he does not return, because Caleb is too intensely focused on the sway of her hips with each step, the curves of her body, the outlines of markings. He could devour her. He beckons her with hungry eyes, asking the feminine creature to his side. Let them partake in an action of lust and need, passionate want. "I only bite a little," He states, a smirk dripping onto his lips, his heated orbs calling her closer. All of him yearning for her. For now, she is the last piece to a puzzle, the one missing component that will make this whole.
His breath dogs with each inhale as he waits for her approach, curious to see if she will join him for a night of passion. Her horn sits proud and high atop her midnight hued cranium. At her ass, tendrils of purple hair fall in crescendos of waves to the snow, then drag behind her, gliding over the snow. The desert is in her blood, shown through her Arabian features, a feminine dished head, a slender body, short, but not stout. Come closer, his body says. Her purple dagger is sharp, a deadly weapon. It matches her, a seductive vixen with a dagger. Caleb finds himself rather liking that, his body reacting to this, his nether regions specifically.
"blah blah blah."
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