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12-29-2015, 01:29 AM
the happy ending depends, of course...
An amused snort pushed out of his nostrils at the nip her teeth playfully landed on his thick neck, muscles flexing away from the bite as her teeth closed around his thick hide. But the fleeting sting was welcome— arousing even… He swept the thoughts aside, burying them in the silver shadows of Katerina’s guileless gaze.
She listened, a perfect audience in the celestial light. Only when his words drifted to loneliness did she interrupt— and not with words, but with actions, which the Elephant so greatly valued. Words were so often worthless (Had not he turned his own words to make Dorobo fall? Had not a mare proclaimed to love him, only to walk away?); the simple action of her velvet muzzle on his shoulder spoke volumes more than her apologetic words.
And there was something in the rhythmic stroking, the simple comforting touch that once again stirred the primal, basic needs of the King. Perhaps it was that he had more often been needed as a figurehead lately, perhaps it was because it was so often that he was the one comforting others, or perhaps it was the ephemeral light that made the evening surreal (was this real?). The soft words spoken from softer lips brushed his thick, scarred hide, and he found himself leaning into and returning her effortless embrace. A hum of contentment rumbled, unbidden, in the back of his throat.
The empathy beneath the words of her apology drew his muzzle against her skin, aiming to trace the graceful curve of her shoulder before following the dark dorsal stripe down her spine. Gently he drew in a breath, exotic smells he could not name greeting his nostrils. His eyes drift close as he wills his mind to remain as still and silent as the night.
But it cannot.
Despite the inherent beauty of Katerina, her unknowingly sensual words and voice, and the exhilarating exotic nature of her past, he knows that his actions and arousal stem from his loneliness. It is unfair and selfish for him to love another only because he is lonely, not because he is ready. And this woman, this lovely and captivating mare, deserved either another stallion’s affections or his own, undistracted attentions at another time. Not now, not when his mind was searching for gold instead of silver and his nose was seeking sunshine instead of stars.
So, with lips aiming to linger and brush the middle of her back, he speaks, “Forgive me, Katerina,” and he begins to draw away from her, as he caresses her name, “I’m taking advantage of you, your newness to this world, and my position. I am glad you have chosen a home in the Edge, and if you need anything, please find me,” (even if you don’t need anything, find me) but this last thought was not spoken as he draws further away from the celestial mare to disappear into the shadows to face his woes alone.
Only now does his misty marmot relax, though a sad and lonely expression paints its face.
She listened, a perfect audience in the celestial light. Only when his words drifted to loneliness did she interrupt— and not with words, but with actions, which the Elephant so greatly valued. Words were so often worthless (Had not he turned his own words to make Dorobo fall? Had not a mare proclaimed to love him, only to walk away?); the simple action of her velvet muzzle on his shoulder spoke volumes more than her apologetic words.
And there was something in the rhythmic stroking, the simple comforting touch that once again stirred the primal, basic needs of the King. Perhaps it was that he had more often been needed as a figurehead lately, perhaps it was because it was so often that he was the one comforting others, or perhaps it was the ephemeral light that made the evening surreal (was this real?). The soft words spoken from softer lips brushed his thick, scarred hide, and he found himself leaning into and returning her effortless embrace. A hum of contentment rumbled, unbidden, in the back of his throat.
The empathy beneath the words of her apology drew his muzzle against her skin, aiming to trace the graceful curve of her shoulder before following the dark dorsal stripe down her spine. Gently he drew in a breath, exotic smells he could not name greeting his nostrils. His eyes drift close as he wills his mind to remain as still and silent as the night.
But it cannot.
Despite the inherent beauty of Katerina, her unknowingly sensual words and voice, and the exhilarating exotic nature of her past, he knows that his actions and arousal stem from his loneliness. It is unfair and selfish for him to love another only because he is lonely, not because he is ready. And this woman, this lovely and captivating mare, deserved either another stallion’s affections or his own, undistracted attentions at another time. Not now, not when his mind was searching for gold instead of silver and his nose was seeking sunshine instead of stars.
So, with lips aiming to linger and brush the middle of her back, he speaks, “Forgive me, Katerina,” and he begins to draw away from her, as he caresses her name, “I’m taking advantage of you, your newness to this world, and my position. I am glad you have chosen a home in the Edge, and if you need anything, please find me,” (even if you don’t need anything, find me) but this last thought was not spoken as he draws further away from the celestial mare to disappear into the shadows to face his woes alone.
Only now does his misty marmot relax, though a sad and lonely expression paints its face.
...on when you end your story.
@Katerina
Please tag Tembovu.
