As she had suspected all along, he could not offer a satisfying answer to her query. In her eyes he appeared flustered where he stood, stomping and thrashing like the dark waves against her snow-covered shoreline, a spring storm rampaging against the withdrawal of a winter that payed him no attention. If only she could be like the fading season and withdraw, go on her merry way with the satisfaction of having completed her task.

Unfortunately, just as he has no answer, she stands wordless as he draw nearer, expression as frigid as the raw cold emanating from her frost-covered skin. The heat of his presence is searing, burning and clawing at her senses, attempting to melt the high walls of defense, self preservation, dignity. Erthë breathed and felt the stench of his essence well over her in waves of disgust, contempt and, despite herself, fascination.

Why was it that she was constantly drawn towards danger? Why did the night, the dark and the strange have such power over her? Born beneath a full moon, should she not be a child of light and beauty, all grace and silk-wrapped innocence? Yet when he whispered threats in her ear, uttered poisoned words of hunting wolves and swiftly approaching pain, the shudder that rippled through her skin was born from shock and thrill as much from fear, the prospect of being consumed by that which she feared above all as morbidly exciting as it was terrifying.

Erthë breathed again, inhaled a long, deep breath saturated with the reek of sweat, of blood, of musk and man, so inherently strange and foreign to the inexperienced cygnet, and her enchanted, magic-tainted eye traveled to meet his menacing golden gaze. A storm brewed within its silvery depths, emotion swirling like mist on a moonlit night; twisting, stirring, conflicting as anger battled other, less certain sensations stirred up by the narrow distance between his skin and hers.

"The entire world is bigger than me" she said, and her voice was as calm and distant as the stars, a warm breath in an cold, cold rush of howling wind. "If I were to pause and drop to my knees before every obstacle in my path I would never get anywhere."

That's all you are to me, Rikyn. An obstacle to overcome - a stepping stone I need to scale, in order to reach something greater.

A simple step to the right was all it took to escape the oppressive closeness of the stallion, and she was already moving away from him, walking determinedly back towards the towering cliffs from whence she had come.

"I came down to see whether you had grown up since last I saw you, Rikyn, but it appears I was wrong. Here's to hoping I won't have to be disappointed again."

Since you're not likely to ever mature, let's just not meet again, shall we? That would be a relief... in various ways. The effect his close proximity had on her was alarming and she did not like it one bit. A weakness at the knees, a surging heat in the gut; strange and wonderful, in a way that left her feeling tainted, unusual.

Coiling tassels danced as she flicked the elegant tail offered him a dismissive wave, an imperious wave of a monarch's hand to suggest the audience was over. The snow flower had nothing more to say and at this rate, any further conversation was likely to descend to the level of base threats... no wait, he had already hurled himself headlong down that path. Oh well, at least she could keep herself above such things...

Here's to hoping he wouldn't press the matter. Her temper wasn't half as sweet as her parting words, and patience had never been her strong suite.

_________________________________________

Waiting for the rain I'm bracing for the thunder
A twig that wouldn't sway in the wind