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09-17-2015, 01:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-17-2015, 01:59 PM by Tembovu.
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A deep, short bark of laughter escapes roughly from his massive barrel at her brutal (yet appealing) advice. “Productive? No. Most satisfying? Yes,” he rumbles in agreement, the edge of anger just barely leaving his voice. The taunt sinew beneath his thick hide ripples as some of the tension leaves in the face of the dry, warrior humor shared between them. “Though I probably shouldn’t be the source of bad blood between us and the Basin… I don’t know that it’s worth it,” if she’s worth it, the unspoken words hang in his head. He didn’t know if killing Alexander would even make the Basin Lords blink an eye (and the vindictive part of him would like to think that he was an unimportant cur). He didn’t even know if he wanted to kill the colt. The source of his anger, of his hurt, was that he had been lied to and swept aside. A mere friend— the thought had an irritated snort coming from his thick nostrils. His smoldering eyes sweep to her icy ones as she voices her question. “Love her?” he repeats, as if asking himself. He studies her cool, impassive face, his molten heat slowly cooling to hardened cobalt. Though his body is still rigid, his head is gradually and fractionally lowering from its previous, infuriated height. In the back of his mind he feels backhanded relief— to be in the company of someone who did not back away from his towering temper or violent glare. Instead of concerning himself over frightening this mare, he found welcome wit and unflinching coolness to his searing anger. These thoughts swirled through him as he avoided answering her question, gaze still not leaving her face. His face grows hard, despite the resurfacing appreciation the lingering pheromones bring during his studying gaze of the mare. He is a stallion, he is not immune— and is rage really so different from passion? His ears, which had flicked towards her during her question, his thoughts, and his stare, flick backwards. He is irritated with himself. Did he only think with his dick? If a woman could bring the fall of an empire, surely one could destroy a man. So he swings his head away from the warrior mare once more, a ripple of muscle causing the thick hide to twitch over his shoulders and neck. “I know only of a love cultivated over time. With strength and respect,” finally he answers her, voice low and quiet now, “It has been but a few seasons. And both those qualities are lacking, now…” his voice rumbles into silence as he thinks. The tides swings from anger to pain once more, so he turns the first thought in hims mind to the other, “Do you’ve any experience with gods cursed matters of the heart?” For indeed, thus far, the stallion’s heart had been nothing but trouble. |
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@ Nyx
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