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08-13-2015, 01:25 AM
A devilish smirk tilts his lips upwards as he stands still, eyes looking forwards at the faraway horizon. Her eyes are on him, watching, memorizing him. Even as his marble voice echoes over the barren emptiness, his eyes are ahead, never peering sideways to look at his company. Eventually, her calm reply comes, a general, vague greeting. Spice. Iron eyes slowly move to focus on Spice, cranium angling towards her, each maneuver slow, deliberately slow. He just watches her, eyes cast downwards on her alabaster face. Her innocent voice asks who the beast is, but he is no more than a masked man, a stranger with the face of a friend. His lips are sealed as his smirk eventually fades, words do not pour from his lips, the mysterious stallion remaining an unnamed figure for now. The sanguine wing closest to the mare unfolds, gently rising over her body, appearing like an umbrella in the moment. After a few seconds, it begins lowering, moving to blanket her, warm her. Eventually it rests (hopefully on top of her slight frame).
"Caleb," he mutters to her, his head returning to its natural position, eyes no longer resting on her, but straight ahead again. "I hail from Aurora Basin, a northern land." His lengthy fur had shown for it, becoming rather thick to protect him from the constant freeze that had settled in at his home. His body was steel, unmoving. The bitter cold could not penetrate his thick fur, thus he was okay to offer his wing for warmth to a mare. Who knows, he may even get something out of this. He shuffles closer, aiming to have his flank touching with hers. Contact would certainly ignite something between them, electricity, fire. She would not be cold anymore, not with Caleb tracing fiery trails on her with his snout. Would she still be cold when her face turns pink with the heat of embarrassment when she realizes she wants this as much as Caleb? It's ironic, mares are in fact, just as horny as stallions. "Spezia," he begins, calling her Spice, but in his own tongue. "What do you wish to do tonight?" Was the question sexual? Not totally, but it very well could be, should she choose to answer in such a way.
"Caleb," he mutters to her, his head returning to its natural position, eyes no longer resting on her, but straight ahead again. "I hail from Aurora Basin, a northern land." His lengthy fur had shown for it, becoming rather thick to protect him from the constant freeze that had settled in at his home. His body was steel, unmoving. The bitter cold could not penetrate his thick fur, thus he was okay to offer his wing for warmth to a mare. Who knows, he may even get something out of this. He shuffles closer, aiming to have his flank touching with hers. Contact would certainly ignite something between them, electricity, fire. She would not be cold anymore, not with Caleb tracing fiery trails on her with his snout. Would she still be cold when her face turns pink with the heat of embarrassment when she realizes she wants this as much as Caleb? It's ironic, mares are in fact, just as horny as stallions. "Spezia," he begins, calling her Spice, but in his own tongue. "What do you wish to do tonight?" Was the question sexual? Not totally, but it very well could be, should she choose to answer in such a way.
