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If the man had known how violent and vicious (for not even the dangerous glint of her coral eyes belied how dark and twisted her thoughts had become of him) perhaps he might have stayed his tongue and sought reprieve with other, less savage and more willing mares.
Regardless, the hulking, winged giant was reliably blinded to the dangers of a beautiful woman’s flesh. So his yellow, raptor gaze swung away from the certain death of Orithia to the sweet smirk of his new Queen— but his attention is jerked back by the annoyed clicking of the desert rose’s teeth.
His brows raise as he, again, openly and loudly laughs at Ori’s vicious words. “I assure you, had I visited Uumalah’s pleasure houses before arriving, I would not have had the strength to follow you across Helovia, makali,” his own crass humor meets her lewd words— but the smallest of frowns taints his muzzle at the thought of his father’s whores. He does not delve into that, for his own dam was one of them. And he may be addicted to the pleasure that looms between a woman’s legs, but he is not so sick as to seek it from his own mother.
She then speaks a name— a name that the Icebound also speaks as if he should know it. “Tembovu?” His rough voice questions. “If he is from the plains, then I do not know of him. I am from Korofi, the mountains. We leave the wingless to their flatlands. It’s far less… pleasurable,” again, he chuckled as his yellow eyes dart to Ori and a great wing stretches out, primaries playfully seeking to brush the bristling skin of the dove. Indeed, few Dorobians visited the desert oasis, but the winged horses of the plateaus easily frequented it.
His heavy head cocked, feathers ruffling, “I’ve been a vagabond for a long time. But I come from tradesmen. Perhaps I could see if I remember how to make things?” His gruff voice grew thoughtful for a moment, before he continued, “But first, I’d like a nap.” He grinned roguishly at both mares.
Regardless, the hulking, winged giant was reliably blinded to the dangers of a beautiful woman’s flesh. So his yellow, raptor gaze swung away from the certain death of Orithia to the sweet smirk of his new Queen— but his attention is jerked back by the annoyed clicking of the desert rose’s teeth.
His brows raise as he, again, openly and loudly laughs at Ori’s vicious words. “I assure you, had I visited Uumalah’s pleasure houses before arriving, I would not have had the strength to follow you across Helovia, makali,” his own crass humor meets her lewd words— but the smallest of frowns taints his muzzle at the thought of his father’s whores. He does not delve into that, for his own dam was one of them. And he may be addicted to the pleasure that looms between a woman’s legs, but he is not so sick as to seek it from his own mother.
She then speaks a name— a name that the Icebound also speaks as if he should know it. “Tembovu?” His rough voice questions. “If he is from the plains, then I do not know of him. I am from Korofi, the mountains. We leave the wingless to their flatlands. It’s far less… pleasurable,” again, he chuckled as his yellow eyes dart to Ori and a great wing stretches out, primaries playfully seeking to brush the bristling skin of the dove. Indeed, few Dorobians visited the desert oasis, but the winged horses of the plateaus easily frequented it.
His heavy head cocked, feathers ruffling, “I’ve been a vagabond for a long time. But I come from tradesmen. Perhaps I could see if I remember how to make things?” His gruff voice grew thoughtful for a moment, before he continued, “But first, I’d like a nap.” He grinned roguishly at both mares.
graasvoel
@Orithia @Elsa We can end it here or we can continue <3
Please tag Graasvoel in all posts.
