.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
the happy ending depends, of course...
“Touch, I do not mind.” Her soft melodic voice began to reweave the spell that had bound him just before his crashing hoof. Her neck reaches out towards him and the slender muscles shift beneath constellation, making it dance in the starlight. Navy eyes, which had retrained on her silver ones (he had thought those were safer to look at, but their glowing and entrancing depths proved him wrong), returned to tracing the lines between the stars on her neck.
At her dulcet chuckle, he could refrain from his urges no longer. “Then, may I?” The question was merely a formality, for his pale muzzle and black lips were already stretching back to her coat. Lightly, nearly hovering above her skin, he traced the constellation, nostrils still quivering at the barest touches.
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the silken coat did not spark or shock his velvet, whiskered muzzle. He stopped his tracings at her jaw, pulling his head away as she finished soaking of her home. The lilt became sad, the phrases breaking from their harmonious rhythm. He watched, along with his mongoose friend who floating and climbed onto his broad back. It watched, as captivated by the foreign mare as the Elephant was (though, perhaps the mist animal was just an extension of himself).
“I cannot imagine being able to forget you, Katerina,” indeed, the low rumble rang with truth in the small space between the equines, “Though I am sorry for your loss, I am glad we have gained you in the Edge.” Perhaps, coming from a different man, these words may have sounded callous. But the genuineness with which the King spoke negated any unsympathetic notions in his statement.
At her dulcet chuckle, he could refrain from his urges no longer. “Then, may I?” The question was merely a formality, for his pale muzzle and black lips were already stretching back to her coat. Lightly, nearly hovering above her skin, he traced the constellation, nostrils still quivering at the barest touches.
He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the silken coat did not spark or shock his velvet, whiskered muzzle. He stopped his tracings at her jaw, pulling his head away as she finished soaking of her home. The lilt became sad, the phrases breaking from their harmonious rhythm. He watched, along with his mongoose friend who floating and climbed onto his broad back. It watched, as captivated by the foreign mare as the Elephant was (though, perhaps the mist animal was just an extension of himself).
“I cannot imagine being able to forget you, Katerina,” indeed, the low rumble rang with truth in the small space between the equines, “Though I am sorry for your loss, I am glad we have gained you in the Edge.” Perhaps, coming from a different man, these words may have sounded callous. But the genuineness with which the King spoke negated any unsympathetic notions in his statement.
...on when you end your story.
@Katerina
Please tag Tembovu.
