As he stands stark with his expression firm and waits for the mare to swivel round to face him head-on, a breeze from the sea wafts her warm, heady scent towards him, reminding him just what season it is. But Encantador is practiced at controlling his urges, for the most part, particularly when there is no friendliness between the two parties involved. Besides, it’s too damn hot for that sort of thing, even if the both of us were willing.

Impatient, the stallion ends up moving around to face her directly himself, lashing his slick, wet tail with irritation. He regards her with suspicious yet thoughtful brown eyes. “Should I be?” he asks her sarcastically. “The last time we met, you treated me like an inconvenience: a little boy. In fact, I seem to remember the word ‘pest’ being used, or something similar.” He lifts his head a little higher and smiles mockingly. It feels strange to be speaking with such a poisonous tongue when he’s normally so good-natured. Yet it’s refreshing. Am I just an ass at heart?

He continues. “You know, whatever. You’re a stranger and we didn’t hit it off. Big deal; I can get over that. But to actually show up in my home…” He shakes his head with disdain, conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d actually invited her here. “On the hottest day of the year… what do you want, Phyx? Why are you here? Because if you just want to mess with someone, I'd rather it wasn't me.”