Her name meant Dove, and it was not at all wrong in it’s sentiment. Lovely, gentle, if not innocent then as close as one who has survived to adulthood could be. Solomon has to restrain and rewire and work around his impulses, she contrarily must give in and accept and discover. Her no-nonsense state of affairs is a generality born from noticing that nonsense often led to misery and misery led inevitably to regret. A feeling she held so little love for that she all but refused to entertain it’s cousins fun, freedom, and excess.
Well, until a particularly handsome fellow decided she was worth a couple pretty words and a hellishly promising offer she could hardly refuse. His open admiration of her was not unusual, per say, but it had been a long time since she’d fancied she liked the sensation. A long time since she had thought perhaps slowing down long enough to get caught wasn’t such a bad idea. His chuckle is thrilling, deep as it is, and his muzzle to her shoulder makes her skin twitch-- though this time she doesn’t respond by moving away from the clearly new sensation. Her stomach is fluttering and she takes a liberty of her own, craning her neck in such a way as to reach just behind his own peak of withers. Her skin jumps again where the teeth scrape, but she leans into it gladly.
"I would be happy to help you out, Collie. Perhaps though, we should venture to the Cove first." She tilts her head, not aware of her situation as he might think she’d be. Not one bit deterred, either, however. "Then, I promise, Columbina, to remove the offending salt from every beautiful inch of you." His grin thereafter is what tugs her onward, agreeably towards this Cove and where his trail of teeth instantly leads her to desire herself. If only she had let herself grow accustomed to flirtation, to coercion of the physical kind. She does not realize what magnetism he projects enough to stem her response.
In no time at all, she is stepping cautiously back into waves and headed to a place far colder than she’d ever have known. She even matches his pace, not questioning why she must cross through more salt to itch before she is within and then too suddenly out of the waves. Tinuvel had a new lady for it’s master’s shelf.
[ POSSESSED BY SOLOMON IN THE COVE ]
[ NO CHILDREN (_x_) ])