Usually worse.

He keeps from attacking at her insistence, however, so simply settles for glowering irritably, lifting one paw to clean between the claw-sheaths. The silver's attention is largely focused on Mauja instead of him, however, her brow lifting a fraction as he repeats her word. Maybe, murmurs that little voice in her head that isn't Dominus, he knows all about how much effort midnight murder takes. She tries not to think about that.

Queen. Did he really just say that? The soldier looks at him with an expression of comical disbelief, and a throaty chuckle rumbles from her solid chest. "There's not many stallions I know who would freely refer to themselves as women," she observes. "You must be very confident in your manliness." Or you're Black Hottie's sex-bitch, as I thought. Again, not a train of thought she wants to go down. The mental images cannot be unseen.

Suddenly he's afire, stoic ice burning away to be replaced by movement as he disappears into the fog with the ghostly elegance of that owl of his (little does Nyx know he's acquired a second eye-pecker since they last met). For a moment she's taken aback by his show of, well, dare she call it playfulness? But she's not one to back down from a challenge, and with a hearty chortle she kicks up her heels and dives after him. The urge to truly open up, to hurl her body through the gears and eat the ground like a king's supper, almost overwhelms her, but she resists. Running at great speed over fog-laden, treacherous ground is a fast ticket to a broken leg, and even Nyx's inherent competetiveness won't make her risk that.

She does allow herself to go a little bit, though, her long limbs devouring the ground as she pounds after him. With a disgusted bellow Dominus follows, but his heavy mane and bulky weight slow him down. He soon falls behind, their mental bond thinning from a rampant river to the weakest stream, but still there, ever-present in their heads. He'll catch up, decides the mare. Now it's just her and her spotted king queen in the weak starlight and the soft caress of fog, and she savours it; she tries to draw as close behind him as she possibly can, off to his left side, cool air spiking her lungs as she inhales levelly. "You know, perhaps we could do something more productive than running," she suggests, the words pushed out of her gaping mouth as she drags in sweet oxygen.

"Would you care to spar, Queen of Spots?"

___________

@[Mauja]

You can attack next post if you want! I didn't in this one because, well, she didn't want to try and spear her king in the butt without asking first xD

0/3 - words