Common

young yet, who was leonid to question the whim of stallions? they were so deeply rooted in contest and testosterone and that had been the way of the world. it was known. leonid watched the melodrama unfold; the fireband mouth of cain offering something he perhaps believed to be irrefutable truth. she felt a brow climb as he commented on the selfish nature of rougaru. who, by every means, seemed kindly, if only a shade shallow and presumptuous himself. she took to his more civilized demeanor as flies to honey. she was far from eager to join either of them, a though driven by their ceaseless tug of war of words.. though there was something to be said about an knight in silver armor.

"it's leonid. not sweetheart. not little dove." cain's sermon continued, and was met with an unimpressed expression. her features curled downwards and furrowed as he spoke, growing further into a grimace as he advanced towards her. "perhaps you would see better luck with better decorum."

her ears moved flat against her skull as he lunged, her body recoiling though not yet withdrawing a step as he snapped his teeth against her flesh. as though he were a viper boring venom through her veins, her weight lifted so that she'd rear with a squeal against his uncouth behaviour. a low snort rushed from the flare of her nostrils, turning away from the pair as rougaru rose to the occasion, moving to separate her from the proclaimed desert king. her eyes widened as the violence began to unfold, as several paces took her away from striking distance. she'd never been one to delve into violence; nor cared to be audience to such primitive acts. her face turned from them and their undesirable display of dominance.