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08-09-2015, 05:35 PM
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.
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.
