Falls

The dark woman waded towards him through the water, and he found himself dumbstruck - her eyes were locked upon him, appearing almost discouraged, her ears pressed back against her skull and the alabaster stretches of her skin illuminated as the sun gave way to the moon and the stars began to come fourth from their concealment. For all too long, the capped man was mesmerised, hypnotised, so much so that he failed to notice the russet girl who slipped from her shadowy hideaway to fix him with a strong glare and an unimpressed huff.

"You just ruined the whole game!"

"Game?" he echoed with a blink, taking a moment to catch on as his legs carried him in a neat pivot to face them fully, water rippling out from him, mildly distorting his bright reflection and warping it in a confused representation of the epicentre - of Asche, the man in the middle of it all. Continuing her phrase, the girl chattered about how he was to be claimed, and the stallion's eyes flicked back from woman to woman in anticipation. The sensible part of him was being silenced by the part that relished the company of intriguing women and wished to compensate for a lack of them in his new home.

He found himself smirking, willing to play along with her banter: "You don't scare me." he grinned, tossing his head back to flick his damp forelock from his mis-matched eyes. As he was left alone in the water, he found himself edging closer and closer to the pair, taking small strides through the pools and dipping his lips low to caress the cooling surface of the waterfall and to appear less threatening - as if a kitten could be seen as frightening when in the presence of a pair of wildcats. During the light of daytime, Asche found himself a true conformist, giving in to the formal tendencies he had grown up surrounded by on these isles, yet here, surrounded by sand, surf and starlight, he found himself playful. Or it perhaps was just that away from his abode and his looming responsibilities he felt free to flirt and to simply enjoy the company of those who happened upon him at his most vulnerable.

As he approached, he found his muzzle raising, his brow quivering as the water lapped eagerly at his hocks. "I'm Asche - from the Ridge," he added as an afterthought,"who might you be?" he hoped they'd answer, he hoped they stay - at least for now. They were far too intriguing for him to forget, the link between them practically tangible. He was hooked. Perhaps age had made him more like his father after all.