her delicate little ears remain locked on his voice alone, ignoring the general cacophony of the lagoon to focus instead on the dark husky tenor that seems to flow like music from his mouth. his accent is just as intriguing as the rest of him. when he confesses to being a little lazy her eyes widen, as if the idea is unspeakable. she lives to move, to feel the hustle of blood and oxygen bursting through her particles, to reach for each breath of air as if it was just out of grasp. it sounds unthinkable to just waltz along. and just thinking of these things causes a flush of energy to burn through her body. her mind becomes preoccupied for a second, with the idea of charging wildly, recklessly, along, racing the stallion beside her. she wants him to feel that same breathless rush that she has become addicted to. her sharp little smile blooms easily at this thought, and her dark eyes have no trouble resting on his large muscular figure, imagining. without a second thought she dashes forward, just a step or two and turns to face him, dramatically pausing, before lowering down in a graceful bow, giggling all the while. she keeps her eyes lowered to his dark hooves, for effect of course, while she retorts. well then, my smelly and lazy king, i must humbly beg that you escort me, your ever loyal servant, somewhere i may stretch my legs. she rises, her black eyes lifting to his face and giving a cheeky wink before walking along again. she is more serious, a little anyway, when she speaks again. i had a dreadful winter, not one i’d like to repeat, and a boring spring and summer. mischief sounds inviting just about now..

arabian mutt. mare . 13.2 hh . 3 yrs . black . kafkaesque