I am vaguely aware of Phaedra's gaze wandering over the brute's muscled body, but then I am doing the same thing myself. And who could blame us? Gaucho towers over me, a towering mass of brawn painted with blood-hued handprints and decorated with bones and snakes and gods know what else. How is it possible that I have found myself so inexorably attracted to him? Me, a naive, tiny creature of pristine ivory and proper manners? Well, they do say opposites attract, but I for one never would have imagined this coupling in my wildest dreams. But there you are; life is a strange thing at times. Phae's whispered exclamation makes my lips quiver as I try unsuccessfully to hide my smile, and I tell myself that there is nothing smug in my expression. It is a lie. If anything, Phae's incredulous response to my confession makes me happier about what I have done.

But when Phae crosses in front of my, batting her lashes in that flirtatious way that she has, I frown slightly. I know that she would never think to hurt me or try to steal anything from me - including Gaucho, not that I can call him mine - but the way that his gaze lingers on her brings back the fear and regret that have plagued me since our little rendezvous. Perhaps true love does not exist, but I do not wish to become just another number in some stallion's scorebook. But Gaucho's gaze returns to me after a moment and Phaedra looks to me as well to be sure I'm alright, and I force the bitter, unnecessary emotion from my mind. "It's alright," I murmur to Phae, forcing a smile onto my maw. "I'll come and see you in the Foothills soon." It is a suggestion more than a dismissal, but surely she can see that Gaucho and I must talk. And that it will most likely be easier in private.

I bump my muzzle against Phae's shoulder and offer another grateful smile, hoping that she can read my affection for her in the simple gesture. Gaucho has asked me a question, and seems bolder now; it crosses my mind that he hasn't the slightest clue how to handle unstable female hormones. Well, I remind myself wryly, you could have guessed that from the beginning. The snake, though, nips at her bonded sharply, drawing a curious glance from me. A tilt of the head and a prick of the ears sends my own mane tumbling from my nape in soft waves. His movements do not go unnoticed, and I note the rather handsome way that his forelock falls with an appreciative smile. "No, Gaucho, I'm not sad." Not now, anyway. "But - can we talk?"

"talk talk talk"

Live... I want to live on fire
Die... I want to burn out brighter
Brighter than the northern lights
Want to live to feel the daylight