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Kianzo
the prince of darkness is a perfect gentleman
Her voice, though denying his sleepy question of her, was soft enough to lull his slumber-drenched mind into a tentative compliance. And her pleasant, gentle jade eyes caused a temporary calm to subdue his dark proclivities. Maybe because the young could was nursing some semblance of homesickness and the mare’s quiet tranquility offered some sort of comfort. Or, perhaps it was because she did not immediately demand, rebuke, or pester him to moment his eyes opened. Instead, she asked him if he needed anything.
His sharp blue eyes blinked at her a few times—this was not the same ominous mare that stalked him last night and provoked him to try to use his magic. Instead, he finished his stretches and slowly rose to his onyx hooves, just as Keusi stretched and let out a soft yip. They both shook in unison, Keusi’s hackles rising and resettling all along her back; Kianzo’s two-toned mane settled messily on his striped crest.
And then he pinned her with his bright blue stare, “Let’s get it over with then, goldie.” He named the woman for her coat and her stature, which was an odd compliment as he did not name her something derogatory in the absence of her true name. He leaned his haunches lazily against the thick, reedy poles that dripped the mists’ moisture. “What do you want? And how do you know my name?” His fore hoof pawed slightly at the lush grass as he waited, threats of his father’s wrath against this small mare on the tip of his so-far-appeased tongue.
His sharp blue eyes blinked at her a few times—this was not the same ominous mare that stalked him last night and provoked him to try to use his magic. Instead, he finished his stretches and slowly rose to his onyx hooves, just as Keusi stretched and let out a soft yip. They both shook in unison, Keusi’s hackles rising and resettling all along her back; Kianzo’s two-toned mane settled messily on his striped crest.
And then he pinned her with his bright blue stare, “Let’s get it over with then, goldie.” He named the woman for her coat and her stature, which was an odd compliment as he did not name her something derogatory in the absence of her true name. He leaned his haunches lazily against the thick, reedy poles that dripped the mists’ moisture. “What do you want? And how do you know my name?” His fore hoof pawed slightly at the lush grass as he waited, threats of his father’s wrath against this small mare on the tip of his so-far-appeased tongue.
@Bellisma
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