Alysanne, one of his Moon Doctors, appeared from the mist, mostly white body seeming to materialize from the ethereal fog. Brows raised in surprised— apparently insomnia was not only his plague for the night. Heavy head turned to the left as she approached, facing him rather than standing alongside him. Perhaps she, too, had reason to avoid her reflection? He silenced these musings as he focused on the soft voice that sent his name questioning through the mist. He found relief that Alysanne, one of his first friends in the Edge, did not refer to his title. He was simply “Tembovu,” Not ‘sire,’ ‘sir,’ ‘majesty,’ ‘king,’ or any such superfluousness.

Ears perked towards the piebald pegasus, dark and lonely eyes studying her hesitant face. He waits in silence, voice not yet ready to be used. Help her with something? In the face of her hesitance and the darkness of the hour, the stallion parts of his mind immediately assumed she meant coital-type assistance. Azure eyes widened and brows raised further— it had been a long while since a mare had propositioned him. Lately, it seemed he was the one following his studly-stick around.

Lips parted to say— he wasn’t sure what, but her rush of explanation saved the King from his blundering tongue. Though, his eyes swept over her svelte and feminine form, assessing her for battle— but still noted that her carriage was lovely and her legs long. He blinked, bringing himself back to her question.

“I’m hardly busy at this hour, and would be happy to help you, Alysanne,” dark eyes strayed back to her pale wings, “But I’ve not taught a winged one how to fight.” In fact, it had been a long time since he had taught anyone how to defend themselves or mount attacks. He pursed his lips, realizing how far removed he had become from what he had once been: Dorobo’s great general.

Perhaps in defiance of this realization, he swelled his chest and swung his large haunches to face the Doctor. Hooves churned the dark, wet soil and his head lowered. “But I can’t have you feeling helpless, my sweet Doctor. I’ll gladly be your first victim,” a grin touched the edges of his thick lips, finally replacing the morose emptiness that plagued his face before. He felt something warm stir in his barrel— and it was a welcome change from the dank coldness that existed there before.

A: 0/3
WC: 407
Damage Tracker: -
Summary: He turns to face her, the pond is to his/their right. You can take the first attack, Sarah! I can't teach, so this will not be a 'teaching spar,' just to clarify to the judges!