don't take friendships personal.

[rainy]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] A thin layer of mist enclosed over the plantation in a haze. His steel gaze penetrated through the embers of afternoon darkness, for even yet the golden globe had not hidden behind the clouds; though soon it did. Night still held its stronghold over the Lush Fields although the soft rippling and crackling of the creek in the Deep Forest far off were easily heard over the other damask intercourses of sound. Nostrils flared as he released a parchment of carbon into the atoms, then slowly inhaling oxygen he returned the same proposition. Naturally his broad chest rose and fell gently along with each inhale and exhale. Through the Autumn tapestry of cover, he came to exclude his eyes over the quite and peaceful scenery; in secret awe of what he came to pull into his gaze. A thick mass of silver tipped blades for yards around him and already, the brute’s thick pelt of dark ebony had become a shining beacon of beauty as the moon’s rays caressed each blessed hair. Nikolai inclined his head as his rather sensitive nose took short, gentle whiffs of the vaporized fog. A scent lingered, sweet and seductive in the air. A low grunt sounded deeply within his throat as his thick legs took two smooth strides forward out of sheer instinct; though control over his natural impulse was soon gained subsequent to this action. His breathing expelled now in quiet breaths, surrendering into the atmosphere as inaudible. Still, his ears strained forward to catch the sound of delicately placed hooves crunching ever so lightly as they made contact amongst the soft grain; though the whooshing undulation of the water to his right seemed to be fighting for dominance over the other resonance of the vicinity. The scent of the female grew stronger and more intoxicating as Nikolai pursued his pace rather swiftly across the supple floor below him. Nobody would believe that a predator with such mass could wield such dexterity. He was of massive size –a giant amongst equines- and was graced with muscles and a build fit for a male. And then he stopped. Although he seemed to be absolutely and utterly motionless, deep breaths were still being pulled into globular nostrils. The scents of nature affected him in no way whatsoever, though when the scent of the female entered his nostrils –untainted by the wind-, it encouraged movement once more. Cautiously, the brute inhaled once more, dissecting the mixed smells that came to him. Muscular limbs stimulated underneath his enormous chassis, carrying the stallion’s massive form across the grassy terrain until he decided he would just stop and wait. He did not move, did not breathe as he halted completely. The Russian male then let out a call to announce his arrival, allowing his stance to change into one of beautiful regality. Thick nape arched as caudal appendage slightly raised, navy opticals staring forth with masculine confidence. The rays of the moon highlighted the scar across the hellion’s devilishly handsome façade, though it would likely strike fear into any that were to behold it. Silently, he waited for the female he smelled to arrive.

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[Crow'sia]

Gertrude,

Something was following her again, as things always did the Fields when the sun set. She stood at the border of forest and meadow, peering into the darkness so intently that her skull ached. The forest worried her more than being followed. There were monsters in there, like the wolf. She had to drive him off over and over. The follower, on the other hoof, was not a monster, but something much more welcome, if no less dangerous. Gertrude could smell a stallion in the wind. And of course a stallion would be following her. Apprehension aside, relief ruled her emotions.

The truth was, Gertrude was a mare with no home. Whether the other horses stayed with her or not, she couldn’t say. Always lurked that worry they would leave her. Now, under her feet and soft in her ears, throughout the night she had caught signs of another equine. It both thrilled and scared her. Finally, someone who might be unafraid. Finally someone who could help her to survive. She jumped, skin crawling when a snap and a rustle of leaves erupted inside the shadows.

A branch falling, no doubt. She should relax. Leave this forest. So she did. But she continued to listen behind her long after the sounds of the night and the bubbling of a creek had gone. Breathe came in misty puffs from her nostrils. Colder and colder each night. What would happen when winter came? She didn’t dare think on it. Another sound made her start. She hadn’t gone far when the stallion called. Her direction had been off and Gertrude modified quickly, following the edge of the Fields once more. And there he was.

From a distance, the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Gertrude’s experiences with the opposite sex? About nil. She could remember her father, who she looked very much like, and Monsieur Valentine, who had saved her all those years ago. Both were forces to be reckoned with. This animal was his own class. You did not reckon with such a force you moved swiftly and carefully out of its way. She called from across the silver grass, slowly and carefully trotting near.

A few hoof beats away, Gertrude stopped, her tail swishing back and forth and whip-like, ears stiff with agitation. At this distance, she could see his face, the scar along his eye. She knew that were he an unpleasant sort, she would have plenty of trouble getting away. The little mare shivered. “You’re in strange lands, stallion. You came for me?”

[rainy]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] With each passing moment, the sweet aroma of femininity became stronger and more intoxicating within the nostrils of the male. Tympanums fluttered atop his regal skull, twisting slightly to the right as the brush of hooves on the dew-dampened blades resounded from that direction. Not much later did the mare’s call enter the same intent eardrums, though he still did not turn to look at her; albeit, she had gained the full attention of his conscientious lobes. His massive body remained motionless as she approached him, though he could feel the tension radiating from her sensuous form. The left side –the side she could not see- of blackened labrums curved in dark amusement, whilst the opposite side affected by the scar lingered in its solemnity. Truly an intimidating beast, he was. “You’re in strange lands, stallion. You came for me?” Spheres of navy turned to gaze upon the female who had spoken, secretly pleased by her small, delicate appearance. Intrigued, he was, by her contrast in colors: pitch black pelt and snowy white mane and tail. He did not speak yet, nor did he completely turn. He simply stood in contemplative silence, not a single movement contorting his flawless stance. Finally, words spilled from charcoal lips, deep and seductive as they entered the quiet atmosphere. ” Eto verno, kobyla. YA ne prinadlezhu v takih mestah, kak eto.” “This is true, mare. I do not belong is places such as this.” Then, the brute turned, pivoting on his hocks to totally face his company. Muscles convulsed like rippled iron beneath a sheet of black satin, cords of sinew swelling beneath his thick skin in a sheer display of unbridled power; only proving the theory that he was a force not to be reckoned with. The hellion’s broad neck arched as he locked deep blue irises on her own of dark chocolate. Surely she could sense him now -- see that he was the epitome of male and all things masculine. ”I was simply wandering the lands, dorogoĭ. It was your smell that attracted me.” Blunt, straightforward, and honest. Although he spoke with his native Russian accent, forcing the words into a deep, charming baritone that was sure to get any female excited. Lengthy caudal appendage brushed against the backs of brawny hind limbs as a wry smile graced his handsome visage. ”What stallion owns this land? I’m sure he would be overridden with jealousy that I am stealing your interest away from him.” He spoke in a sultry tone, not quite trying to seduce the mare. It was just the way he talked.

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[Crow'sia]

Gertrude,

Gertrude’s heart fluttered. Not really in a romantic way, or so she didn’t think, it was more of a terrible mix of apprehension and excitement. Worse, that he would stand still so long. Her muscles began to ache with tension. She struck a nervous foot on the ground just to work some of the stiffness out. She opened her mouth to speak again. He spoke.

Nonsense. He spoke nonsense. She squinted, she flicked her ears back and forth like angry moths. Had she heard right? She must have. Gertrude wondered if he could speak properly. He had a strange voice. Thick and wrong in her ears, but, still, pleasant. Different. She found herself closing her eyes to listen. Eyes were just extras, of course, she would feel him move in her feet. And she did, only a little. She wondered, momentarily, if he was trying to impress her. He didn’t really need to try, standing there was quite enough she found, but she recognized her father in those movements, in the ripple of his muscles, the curve of his neck. And Valentine’s. They used to parade around for her mother. Of course, this stallion wasn’t really parading.

When he spoke again, Gertrude leapt back in a panic. That strange lilt remained, only now his voice was beautiful. She shook her head and took a step closer, stretching her neck like a crane to watch him. He didn’t sound to threatening, but really, it would take time to get over the size. In response, she scoffed.

“There are no stallions here,” she said with some bitterness. Throwing caution to the side, she trotted closer, careful small footsteps that took her near enough to swat him her tail, if she really extended, and perhaps get a right good kick, but far enough away that she hoped it wouldn’t really matter. Then, she laughed. “Haven’t you heard? They’re all terrified of the demons living here.” And Gertrude began to mutter to herself, a quiet rant. She really didn’t like cowards.

A fly on her shoulder made her leap a tail length into the air.

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[rainy]

I just wanna make sure I completely understand before I respond.

Throwing caution to the side, she trotted closer, careful small footsteps that took her near enough to swat him her tail, if she really extended, and perhaps get a right good kick, but far enough away that she hoped it wouldn’t really matter. Then, she laughed.

Did she swat him with her tail and then kick him?

[Crow'sia]

Haha, silly me and my lack of clarity!
She swatted him with her tail, and then was pondering that she could probably kick him at the distance, and he could kick her, but hoped it wouldn't come up.