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I'M A WHISPER LOST UPON WIND, I'M THE EMBER THAT WILL BURN YOU DOWN I'M THE WATER THAT'LL DROWN YOU, I'M A STAR THAT'S JUST A BLACK HOLE NOW Mare. That smell, that delicious stench, is one that the beast would know anywhere. He could be twenty years old, dying, broken, and he would still have this drive to sate the ache that bursts through him whenever he smells a woman. His massive head immediately swings, upper lip lifting and flexing to taste the air, dragging out the particles that identify the presence of a woman. Massive hooves clack on the stone below as he turns fully, white face hunting, searching, seeking. Need gnaws in his belly like starvation, and his tail arches a fraction as his eyes devour the landscape. Vérzés is the first to notice the mare - or, more specifically, her companion. A large black cat, begging. Volterra feels his bonded's derision at the mewling that emits from the creature, and the red turns his back to continue feasting on his kill with his tail lashing idly behind him. The stallion casts a half-glance at the serval, but the vast majority of his attention is saved for the mare that accompanies him. Smaller than him, but not so small she'd break beneath his weight, she bears the horn that seemingly marks her as a unicorn. The beast moves forwards, nostrils flaring wide, determining that she is the one leaking the delicious odour of mare. Desire twists his gut and bids his powerful neck to arch, displaying each rock-hard muscle for her viewing pleasure. "Your companion," he intones in his thick baritone. "It appears to need feeding." But, truthfully, he cares not a jot for the serval's hunger - he only cares for his own, and he thinks that this darling young mare will be able to help him out in sating it. |
@Sikeax
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
