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12-29-2014, 02:51 AM
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Dröm
the Raconteur It was my... friend? Rostislav. He had been kind enough when we had met, but I had the company of another horse and we had buisness to discuss. Merely buisness, nothing else. When we asked him to leave, he did so, but his offer to rendezvous had still hung in the air. Was this his attempt at meeting up again? It was outrageous to think one could get on my good side by sparring with me. I laughed inwardly, my outer exterior remaining stoic, seemingly cold. He stops a few yards away, perhaps a safety precaution. Oh, but silly Rostislav. I only bite a little. Suddenly, a smile crept it's way to my lips, curving them upwards. He greets me unusually, but not exactly in a way that seemed out of character. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant until my gaze dropped to my hooves and I truly saw the large amount of mud on my golden and ivory pelt. So today I would dance in mud and blood. What a glorious combination. "Rostislav, Rostislav. Don't you realize not all mares are dirty in public?" That was extremely sexual. What is Birdsong doing to me?! I've been very needy recently and I've tragically thrown myself at a few stallions I've met. Not literally that is, but I've dabbled a bit in flirting with them. It was strange how my body seemed to change with the seasons. In winter, I would've scolded those that flaunted their lady bits, but now it was spring and I'm the one doing the flaunting. How outrageous. I look up at him once more, surprised to him moving, and quickly. Who knew the stallion could move so quickly? I find myself glued in place. I'm the small fawn, and he is the huge ass thing that is barreling towards me. I can't think fast enough and I feel his teeth sink into the skin on my upper neck. The bite throbs immediately and I flinch, shutting my eyes and letting out a squeal. I feel his teeth penetrate my thin skin, creating the perfect bite mark on my neck. Only where his teeth made initial contact is there slight blood, nothing fatal. From there, all there is, is a patch of fur missing. The throb of the bite and the sting of hair follicles ripped from my dark skin is an interesting feeling. It doesn't exactly hurt, but the feeling stays in my thoughts for now. Rostislav begins moving away from me, but the stallion is slower than I, due to his larger and heavier build. I try to race behind him, jaw wide open. I move as fast as my short legs will carry my supple form. With ivory pearls exposed, I try catching up to him and sink my teeth into the part of his back where spine turns into croup. My jaw shuts, clamping down on what I hope is his skin. My legs stop moving, hooves digging into the mud for extra traction as I slide to a halt, jaw still clamped. My goal was that he would keep moving, and I could tear a good chunk of skin off of the top of his rump. Once I am standing solidly, and I am no longer slipping and sliding, I speak. I hadn't heard his previous words. I had been far too busy squealing then attacking. "I just want a little bite. Are you not going to give me a taste?" I chided, loudly, further jeering him. I giggled softly and took a few steps backwards, trying to make the distance between us further. He had been running the direction I faced, so by backing up I was hoping it would be an inevitable way to create a long distance between us. It was the stag's attack now, and I would laugh watching his sluggish form trying to move quickly towards me. I stood wondering, what card would the stallion pull to win this spar? "talk talk talk" OOC: Attack: #1/3 :: gets bit, chases after him, tries to bite his ass, halts and waits. Notes: so pumped for this >:D |
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