Henrietta went first, led her master to a subtle scent, a scent he craved and craved. She had gotten it, tracked it, moving like bloodhound, head low, nose twitched with each breath, searching for that familiar scent. Eagerly, the beast trotted after his frolicking hound, hoping that she had gotten it, found her. His eyes traced upwards, noting the familiar cave approaching, the ice den that he had met her in. Henrietta bounds ahead, but Caleb halts, afraid of the disappointment sure to come when enters an empty cave. Oblivious to her bonded's halt, Henrietta continues on.

The bitch lunges into the cave, and is wholesomely glad when the slight mare is there. Eagerly, she moves closer in attempt to sniff the femme with her wet nose, silver eyes alight with pup excitement as she yaps loudly, a screechy bark filled with a bubbling happiness. Her tail wags as she retreats to the entrance to the cave and halts, guarding the structure from others as she waits for Caleb (whom is most certainly freaking out a little ways away).

When the brooding stallion enters the cave, Henrietta sinks to the ground, watching the interaction carefully. Caleb feels relief and dread wash through his frozen body, the conflicting feelings freezing him. How to react, how to speak, it's forgotten. His dark brow furrows, confusion, happiness, hunger, hate, everything is displayed in the silver of his eyes, but the rest is cold and detached. "Enna?" He asks softly (well, as softly as his deep tenor voice can muster). The figment of his imagination that had broken down his walls, made him crumble, reduced him to sap, stood in front of him.

He rushes forwards, a loud clatter of heavy hooves on ice. His snout shoots towards her flank as he attempts to approach her perpendicularly. It's a desperate thing, a deep desire to touch her. He wants to feel her silky fur dance under his whiskers, to watch her twitch as his gaze rests on her, to feel her fidget as he trails his muzzle across skin he imagines is oh, so, sensitive. As he nears, his muzzle searches for her withers, to feel her. His ears swivel atop his large chrome-colored skull. Maniacally, his tail writhes behind him like a beheaded snakes body. "Enna..." He breathy voice whispers, searching for some sort of answer, permission even.

A smile graces his lips as she reciprocates, her touch filling something he craved, but also fueling him, his want, everything. Her voice sugary and sweet. "I thought you were a dream, too. It's been driving me crazy." His explorative snout reaches further, tickling where her ribs meet her barrel. His advancements slow and calm, surprisingly gentle. With every movement to her tail, blood flow to his nether regions increased...marginally. Her addictive scent drives him forward, and he pokes around on the top of her butt, before her croup. Then, stops completely, just standing next to her with his head resting on her rump.

Henrietta is gone, where she went is unknown, perhaps home. One minute there, the next gone. Maybe she knows where this is headed, maybe she knew by the emotions freely flowing through the bond. Regardless, she is absent, and they are alone. The only noise is their steady breathing and the wind howling and screeching at the entrance. Caleb doesn't speak, words not needed. There is a silent question in the air. Can I continue? The Sparks that shock through Caleb are animal, drawing him to her like bees to honey, rats to cheese, little children to candy. He is pursuing and she is running, but is she? She doesn't put much of a fight up, but Caleb is happy for it to be this way. The ones that put up such a fight and then get pissed off that he doesn't care enough to pursue past the craziness of the chase are not his type, definitely not. Are they anyone's type? So he's glad to be here with Enna, a sane mare who isn't a horse-slut, a mare who doesn't spread wide for anyone. In fact, that's more attractive than any game. Not to mention, Caleb finds her extremely adorable.

ooc: blahshhe this is a bad post ._.

She didn't say no, didn't refuse. So he continued, savagely. The beast thrives here, skin on skin, heat building between them. If he were human, his lips would be on hers, passionate and hungry, throwing emotion into it, but he's not human. With horses there is no medium, it's either fucking or not fucking. When she does this little moan thing, he takes it as a yes and moves to get on top of her. A bit clumsy, but how can a 1000lb animal have an easy time getting on an equal counterpart? It's clear, though, that he knows what he's doing, that he knows his way around, as if he's been in this spot so many times it doesn't faze him, but it certainly effects him in various ways.

Most of his life, Caleb has felt alone, even in the company of others. It's as if he's stuck on a desolate island afraid he'll be stuck for minutes that turn to hours, then months, and after so much time everyone will forget him, forget Caleb, the one lost to the loneliness of a mental island, stuck with pages of memories he can't burn because that would mean its over for good. The loneliness consumes his mind and leaves him feeling translucent, invisible. Still, despite this, it's hard to accept company, invite the warmth in. It's hard to be around others, but not all there, lost in memories that can't be relived. Caleb is no longer on good nor bad terms with anyone, simply nothing, someone to know but not to think about. He's like a freckle on your skin, you know it's there, but you don't pay much attention to it, you're used to it. It's there, but you don't give it a second thought, you don't try to change it. Caleb knows no one that understands his silence, his lack of emotions, his fear of being forgotten. It feels right to be with Enna, on top of her, in her, but it seems so wrong at the same time. He wants to be touched without contact, wants to be held by eyes, carried with words, but that's not happening so the substitute is contact, intimate contact. Through the haze of feelings that rummage his brain all that comes from it is this short-lived contact. Everyone has a chapter they don't read outloud. This is Caleb's.

She didn't actually think they were going to last forever, did she?

Then it was over, he was gone, she was fucked, his weight no longer lingering on or near her. No longer anywhere- vanished. He had left, his hound also. Even their hoofprints have already been covered with snow. All that is left to be deduced is that he ran. He ran because he's a fool, because he doesn't like the feeling of having been with someone intimately then lingering around hoping for more, but also hoping for less. The contact didn't fulfill the loneliness, so he continues. Would it be rude to simply say that...

the spark they had vanished when he dismounted?