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But I know what I've seen's not out of reach / So give it to me, give it to me
He will have.
The behemoth moves closer, skull-marked head bobbing purposefully at the end of his powerful neck. His massive strides contain the lazy arrogance of a man completely comfortable in his own flesh, an almost feline prowl of testosterone-fuelled masculinity. His gaze roams freely across her body as she drinks and then skims a stone across the water, moving ravenously across her wings and from her head to her tail. He likes what he sees. Admittedly, any woman with a pulse is the height of attractiveness to him in his oversexed current state, but this one is a particular fine specimen of her gender.
With an earth-shaking thud of his colossal hooves, the stallion draws to a halt a short distance from her. He cuts an imposing figure, all firm, hewn muscle and tight black flesh, finished off by the large red dragon that perches ominously on his withers. The crimson does not entirely approve of his bonded's lusts, which control him far more than he would like, but he accepts that Volterra is a man grown now and is a victim of the needs of his gender. Vérzés shares them, albeit his desires are more geared towards hunting, ripping, killing whereas Volterra's are all about breaking, dominating, fucking.
The black monolith's hot gaze lingers on the young mare, his tail swinging idly against his flanks. "You look lonely," comes the gruff, gravelly baritone of his voice. And she does - it isn't just his carnal lust that says that. She is alone, skimming stones across a pond; clearly something isn't quite right.
@Zenobia
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
