It is disappointing to see him so unmoved by her assault. He stands unperturbed, bloodstained by unwavering in the face of her attacks and it nettles at her that he should not feel the same well of fury that had consumed her. Her own pristine hide is smeared with the evidence of their struggle, and her own body stung where his muzzle had touched her in the scuffle.

She hated and loved him both in that moment, and the realization of both left her breathless.

Vanya wanted to tear him limb from limb, to see if his inner wolf might spring forth and devour his wicked heart. She wanted to rend from him the thing that he held most dear and dangle it like juicy bait above his head until he danced for her. She would find a way to take from him so that he might know what it was to have your pride brandished about.

In truth, Vanya had no reason to give in now, a truth that returns to her as he waits at her haunches unmoving. She had not entered this conversation with the assumption that he would free her. It had only been the taunting of such a thing that had led them so far down this rabbit hole that she was here now, leaning against him as if she were no more than a slave to her own hormones. The realization of what she was risking, and signing up for, serve as a shock to her system, a welcome reminder of who she was exactly.

The change is not obvious, just a clearing of her brow and a hardening of her gaze, but it allows her to regain some control over her wayward emotions. It is his mistake to not take what was offered in the heat of the moment, to not rise over her back as a true king would have. He is greedy, asking her to beg for his touch as though she had not just left crescent moons all across his hide moments ago.

She laughs, and the sound is her own, despite the breathlessness of the notes. Arrogantly she shakes her head, bouncing her weight against him as leverage to step daintily forward with a sneer. Vanya slides away from him, whisking the soft strands of her tail across his chest as she does so and moves to circle him, glad for something else to do with her energy. Were it not for the fact that he remained unfazed, she might have continued to tear at him physically until she collapsed or he relented. As it was, the husk of his voice was enough to tell her that he wanted her, even if he inanely thought she was so far gone to think her ready to beg for his touch.

As it were, she trails her hooves along the flowering foliage as she circles him, staying close to the manly swells of his body. He may have bested her moments ago, but this is a game that she knows all too well.

"I should've known you wouldn't be man enough to take what was offered, my King." Anger still lurked in the dark depths of her eyes, but her face is serene, once more in control. With a smirk, she raises the elegant arch of her neck and reaches out to nip him gently on the shoulder, near a mark from only moments ago. "You were too late last time... perhaps you will be too late this time as well."

In truth, she had no intention of letting a stranger crawl across her back ever again. Even now, she knows it is a dangerous game to taunt him as she does and one that might very well lead to a pregnancy she will hate as much as the first one. But the rush of her heat made her crave his touch, and it was all to easy to imagine what it might feel like to take him on again.

And, if she were perfectly honest, the taste of pomegranate was still on her tongue. If he sought to take Drogon from her, she would return the favor. Let him have a bastard of her, and let him never see the child. Let them not know of his name or lineage. Let someone else raise the unwanted spawn and tell him nothing of where it has gone. Let him suffer worse than what he had proposed to her in retaliation of his audacity of asking it in the first place. She would have her revenge and it would be sweeter than the first time she had turned him down.

Abruptly she stops her circling of him and makes a sound of amusement in her throat. Absently she noses at a few flowering plants near her feet before eyeing him dismissively. "Go on then, Rougaru. If it's not me that you want, go seek out the little demon."

Defiantly she raised her chin and eyed him. "While you watch him, I'm sure I can find someone on the Crossing that would be braver than you."

After all, baiting him had already worked for her once before.