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06-24-2012, 06:44 AM
Aureate pools that seemed to be made of liquid consumed the image of the femme, taking in the creature before her as a whole, and combing through the details at the same time. It was not critical, so much as simply thorough; one could learn a lot by the stance in which one held themselves, by the reactions they gave, or the actions they initiated. In the silence, before she spoke, Mirage watched this mare, who was very well aware of her surrounds – a favourable trait, for it meant she was not lacking of brain cells – and she seemed to accept her shadowy presence with relative ease. If first impressions were anything to go by, the little shadow liked this creamy mare, with her delicate composition of chine and poise, even the dark minx could value the beauty before her. And she spoke, her accented tones pleasant to the obedient soldiers standing atop Mirage’s chiselled crown, and the kindness behind the charred mare’s gaze grew more, a small glitter of amusement even daring to swell up. It was a subtle change of countenance, but she had faith that this mare was capable enough of picking up on the hidden nuances of the silent language their bodies spoke. “And would the breeze have a name for the crème creature it so gracefully and artfully delivered before me?” The mare nodded her tiara then, the movement causing her silken tresses to shift along her nape, the metallic golden marking glinting amongst the obsidian threads. Akaith appreciated the observations made of her, the queenly creature arching her nape and chirping draconically to the winged femme, stretching her own translucent wings briefly, before settling them tight by her shimmering sides. “Akaith likes you.” The mare stated quietly, this time allowing a smile to curve her lips, referring to the golden beast that hummed happily upon her rump. It was easy to link the feelings to Mirage herself, for when bonded by heart, mind and soul, it was often difficult to distinguish between each other’s sensations – if either of them had cause to like or dislike something, chances were the other would follow suit. Mirage was curious about the belle before them, and she was pleased to admit that she hoped to get past these poetic introductions swiftly, and see just how capable the pegasus was. |
