Before the words are barely out of his lips, he is answered. Wings beat the air, and pale moonlight eyes turn skyward to see a golden form falling gracefully down to earth. His fallen angel indeed. She glitters, shines; luminescent in the dark eve. There’s a fire to her eyes, a glow of excitement and recognition, of temptation and delight that she can’t hide with the forceful apathy upon her beautiful visage. Landing with hardly a sound, she sharply bites out a single word, and his cocky grin slips into a knowing smirk. A wing was outstretched, and he abruptly stopped as she wished, though he stepped forward to let her feathers brush his chest teasingly, never once removing his smoldering gaze from her lithe body. Seafoam stayed upon his own face, trying to remain stoic, and sharply demanded where he had been. Tucking his chin close to his chest he nipped gently, using only his lips, at the ridge of her wing where it pressed against his collar. Even so he never removed his gaze. Here, there, everywhere. Call it...a spiritual journey, if you want to be romantic, he rumbled, muzzle rising and dropping in tiny kisses towards her shoulder up her wing, hoping she would not remove it as his deep velvet voice wrapped around the two of them.

The dip of her shoulder was enough to tell him she’d raised her hoof, but nothing followed, and a smirk curled his dark bloody lips in amusement. Ah, so he’d been right. His fallen angel despised the mud. Dainty crown was thrown and her forelock slipped across her hazel smudged emeralds, but something amused glittered in them, and Tolio could not remove the smug, seductive expression even from when she’d first landed. Stepping closer towards her wing, he dipped his head down towards her ear- he had grown ever taller, and she had remained the same dainty stature he adored- and hummed his answer directly into her audits. Of course I missed you, beautiful. I thought about you every... he enveloped the tip of her ear in his lips before realising it, moving to her temple, single... trailing down her cheek and the line of her caricature towards her muzzle, finishing off with a teasing echo- moment.

A rustle of brush, a musky unknown, herdless scent hit his senses, and before the words were even parting the stranger’s lips Tolio swiveled to face him, using his side to press Phaedra behind him, shielding her with his body. Chest rumbling protectively he lowered his crown to point his ivory horn threateningly towards the stag, muscles tense and swelled, scarred body rippling in preparation for battle. Come no further, he growled, voice hitting bass registers in his protective anger. Firmly keeping himself as a shield between the unknown brute and his beloved, he still flicked his gaze to the dark mare that arrived, only momentarily so as not to give the Outcast a single moment to move without alerting him.

As Circe moved, so did Tolio. The darkling moved towards the other male, and Tolio shifted to stand between the pair and Phaedra, keeping Circe within his gaze as well, distrusting. ‘Lovebird’ he may be with his sinful angel, but blood had swept the ivory of his horn countless times, and he had no qualms with adding more. Even if the other mare was her herdsister, Tolio did not trust her, and he was much like a feline swelled to twice his size, a formidable wall between the other pair. No more words fell from his lips except to murmur to Phaedra, tilting his head towards his shoulder the barest of increments. Don’t move. The roughness of his voice was more than the finishing touch and sign of his current state, and he hoped with slight exasperation that Phaedra would listen to him this one time.