.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
12-06-2016, 11:46 AM
Яikyn
A shiver traces across my skin, and I attribute it to chill, when I should name it being watched. Still, I’m rarely stalked, and have no children, and thereby have little experience with that creeping sensation of having someone stare at you, unknown. So, when the girl saunters up to me, pressing her body into my side like she’s a woman, and really knows what to do with that sort of behavior, she catches me off guard. Two things happen: a not so uncomfortable sort of warmth blooms somewhere between my legs, and a survivalist’s wariness immediately sparking to life, sending my hooves skittering to the side. Her own body propels away, as if we are oppositional magnets, and when we turn to face each other, she’s not the only one with ears pinned, and breath rattling. I don’t insult her, though, like she does me. Maybe it’s that warmth down there that drives the gesture, and all my pent up hormones, or the grating sound of her laughter, but I can’t help but snap out at her with my teeth, aiming for her hostile little face. Either way, part of me wants to hurt her, and the other wants… Oh, gross, Duir mutters, from where he has literally vanished and rocketed into hiding, somewhere close. The stone falls to the cavern floor with a musical rattle as my teeth violently reach for her. Too distracted by the rush of my blood to notice, it rolls towards her slowly, one uneven side at a time, like the lazy roll of a die. "Then go freeze, ungrateful bitch," I tell the lying, crazy harlot with a stabbing gesture of my horn towards the way out (and away from me); I remember her from when I’d helped her fetch a bird from a nest, only to be subsequently accused of stealing it. To be perfectly honest, I’m not too keen on touching her, either, despite having some rather manly issues. "I didn't ask to be accosted, did I?" there's no place to hide down here |
@Merlin
