A different emotion began to wash over the possessed stallion, drowning the rage he spit. Regret. Azure orbs watched his snowstorm ebb away, and the spots of blood left shining like rubies across the lovely girl's hide. Heavy, wet snow laid thick over her warm blond body, surely leaving her feeling frozen. And the defeated, fearful look which lay across her features stabbed his heart. Damn the demon; this was not him! He did not frighten innocent, even fairly blameless, mares. Leander could not pull his gaze from the dove's face as glistening tears rolled from her emerald eyes.

"Please.. I'm, I'm sorry. Forgive me. This is not who I am." The strained plea softly slipped from his mouth, the words aching with sorrow and even the sharp edge of fear. Feathered pillars moved closer to the battered doe, muzzle reaching gently out towards her cheek, finally brushing it softly. But the move felt wrong, frightening, and the palomino quickly retracted, stumbling backwards from the spy. She obviously did not like him, and he did not want to upset her more. Guilt welled in the pit of his stomach, and the Sultan stared at the honey fae with genuine concern and rueful pain etched across his face. How could he make this right? How, when she thought him such a sorry excuse for a leader?

"You are not a bad spy. I would give much to have someone as talented as you in the Throat." He spoke, assuring her of her skill. She was not lacking in her abilities, not when she had nearly taken him from his home. The amount of knowledge she held was astounding, as much as he did not want to admit it. Such a mare would be a blessing within the Throat. He grimaced as she shivered, left cold by his own hoof. Gingerly, he stepped forward again, outstretching one massive wing. "I know you do not think much of me. I can only apologize for my behavior. I will do my best to help you warm and dry, if you wish." He cast his sights towards the ivory ground as he offerred the downy plumage of his under-wing, appendage still hanging arced in the air, leaving it up to the lady whether she wanted it or not. He expected for it to be left empty of her touch; it was clear that she did not care for him, only of what he meant to Faelene. So why did it hurt that she felt so strongly about him? Why should it matter so much what this stranger thought?



[ooc: Alright. ;) I think he is done with his angry fit though; he just feels horribly awful now. xD]