Common

Solomon

As much as Solomon would like to pretend otherwise, he is hurt by her cold reception of him. Rather than warmth and playfulness, the emotions he had attributed to their first encounter, she regards him with cool suspicion and he stiffens in place. In retrospect, he recognizes that his approach has been too harsh, his own wounded pride controlling the context of his arrival, but there is nothing to be done for it now. He cannot change the way that she avoids his gaze, dropping hers to the brittle grass at her hooves.

When she raises it, it is almost as if the mask she has been trained to wear is back in place. No longer does that flash of vulnerability exist in her gaze; as he thought it had only a moment before and he finds himself conflicted. Her sultry tones are those that he is more familiar with, the kind that he is used to wielding himself and is, therefore, more comfortable with, but they suddenly seem wrong. He does not want her mask between them. He wants the same vulnerability she had shown in his Cove, when they had taunted and teased each other as he walked her through the beautiful landscape of his home. He wanted her to belong to him at his side, not only because she was beautiful, nor because of her bloodlines, but because of the way that she carried herself.

The way that she knew how to taunt him and keep him on his toes. The way that there was always something that she didn't say that he could only guess at. The way that, unlike so many others, he had not choice but to accept that their relationship was hers to determine.

In so many other cases, he could force his hand. Had done so in a number of occasions. There was always an undercurrent of control, where his power exceeded there's. But with Tavas, he could not hide behind such a farce. Tavas was not (or rather had not been, his mind amended) a Commons mare, an easy grab, or a guaranteed win. He had known on that day on the shores of the Cove, that if he wanted her, he had to earn her somehow.

And now, it seemed that he had failed, in more ways than one.

He draws in a steadying breath, trying to find the right angle to play to fix whatever he had done wrong here. Beside him, the pale stallion speaks and Solomon turns his attention to him, grateful for the first time since meeting Tavas, to have something else to look at. In truth, Solomon knows better than to ignore the pale stallion at Tavas' side. The stallion is impossibly taller, stretching higher than even himself and solid in form, promising to be a formidable opponent in battle.

The stallion does not flirt openly with Tavas, and for that Solomon acknowledges a small amount of respect for him. In truth, the Cove needed another protector for when Fall made the beautiful flowers that dotted his home into ripe fruit. There were some, he knew, that would likely not consent to his touch this season, and he was not so child hungry as to force it upon them. A herd could be gained by force, he knew, but it would not stay together unless it was ruled carefully.

There is no question in the stallion's statement for him, so he does not reply, and allows Tavas to introduce herself before he speaks again in reference to her initial statement. A wry chuckle precedes his statement, and he returns his gaze to her as he speaks. "Busy, yes. I had hoped that it would help entice you from the Inlet." He sighs, allowing his expression to soften. "I had thought you wanted to stay with me, that day in the Cove. I seem to be mistaken on that front."

He takes a half step forward. "But if you are saying no for fear of being buried, I can tell you that I haven't managed to forget you yet."

Solomon pauses for a moment, hoping to let the words sink in for her before he shares his attention with the pale stallion again. With another inclination of his head, he introduces himself. "Solomon, of the Cove. Have you not been to Tinuvel before?"

Luthien was the last remaining isle that he had not ventured to, although he would not say that he was exactly familiar with Atlantis either. Neither had yet drawn his attention in the same way that Salem and Tinuvel had.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove