She teases him, using her pretty smile and solicitous words to muddle his thoughts, but his ailing eyes have yet to succumb to total blindness. He’s not naïve enough to believe her suggestions, as appealing as they are. Her body is everything that his is not: young, strong, beautiful, well-kept, hygienic even. In a side by side comparison his could be mistaken for a half-eaten corpse. Even a devout necrophiliac would find little appeal in his threadbare hide and bag of bones appearance, the few extra pounds of meat he’s been able to tuck away between his ribs doing nothing so far for overall appearance. Still though, the words were spun in a teasing, light-hearted way, not the cutting appraisal they could have been.

Fickle, he decides. That’s what she is. No harlot trading flesh for favors, no home-wrecker bent on destroying others happiness for the sake of mourning her own, no heart-breaker thriving off the obsessive attentions of others. Just a fickle woman, giving love and taking love where and how she sees fit. He’s imagined a much more sinister appetite to be inside her - based on the comments he’s heard - and finding otherwise deflates his usual audacity. Simply enjoying physical company is an indulgence of life, not a character flaw. If she’d been born with an out-ie instead of an in-ie her friends would clap her on the back and laugh and congratulate her, not ridicule her name behind her back. He just doesn’t see anything wrong with having a good time – male or female.

“You might be surprised what these old joints can still accomplish.” Quietly, gently, all the fire extinguished from his voice, though he offers a mimicry of the playful wink she gave to him just moments before. “Age brings experience you know.” He doubts that she'd know. All the living, breathing bodies he’s seen in this new world of Helovia have been young and nubile. Based on that population sample he’s probably the oldest, crustiest bastard in all the land. Now there’s an esteem booster.

Hurt flickers across the golden girls face for a moment and the stallion wonders if his earlier harshness hasn’t cut her after all, but just as quickly as it veils her eyes it disappears again, renewed humor taking up its place. Would he like to adventure with her? Uh, no – he’s not the adventuring type. But would he like to go somewhere warmer? Get out of the snow and sleet? Hellz to the yes.

“Okay. Just don’t drag me halfway across the universe like Tangere did bringing me here." He shakes his hairy pencil neck, dislodging a few stubborn snowflakes from the outer surface of his scarf. "Though I’m sure the view would be just as appealing, I don't think I'm up to a second pilgrimage yet. Or ever, probably."


//

OOC: Feel free to toss up a new thread where-ever and when-ever you like. I'll be away this weekend but if you tag me I'll reply as soon as I get back. :D