Common

I should like to see them try, she boasts. Solomon can't help the private grin that lingers on his lips in response, given how he'd been tempted to do just that scant moments ago. Forcing her to come to the Cove would have been a huge gamble, and yet it would have saved them from the back and forth of this verbal sparring. It would have instilled some passion in the way she looked at him - even if it was negative. His gaze flicks appraisingly over the smooth musculature of the near-black coated mare. She wore fewer scars than he did, but Solomon knew that looks could be surprising. Valka, after all, wore a coat so thick and plush that her battlescars remained hidden from the naked eye.

Just as he begins to think that he has made headway with her, she puts him right back into his place, her tone icy as if to censure him. He cannot help but be amused at the irony to be found in the sure way she dismisses his claim of kingship, considering he was actually King of Tinuvel, as absurd as it still sounded. Still, the tall tobiano remains silent, offering only an inclination of his head as an indication that he'd heard her rebuttal.

Flicking the multi-colored strands of his tail across his hocks, Solomon considered how best to describe the islands. He was not nearly as selfless as Cain, nor was he particularly willing to make the other islands sound as nice as the Cove, but misinformation could eventually bite him on the rear down the line.

"Well, you are on the Crossing, right now. The mares of the Peak are to the north, and the Lagoon bachelors to the south. They harbor those unwilling to accept or unfit for herd life." He gestures in both directions with his muzzle, before lifting his head and gesturing even further south. "Far beyond the Lagoon lies Salem, the land of desert, dust, and dry throats. Next, is Atlantis," he says, shifting as if to face the land itself and bringing his body ever closer to being side by side with the enchanting black mare. "The land of deep, dark jungles and howling big cats."

He repeats the maneuver again, not bothering to hide his ultimate goal as he then indicates the general direction of Luthien. "Then Luthien. I've yet to visit, but I understand it is also equally thickly forested."

Solomon shifts again, bringing his body parallel to hers, with on a few inches to separate their shoulders. Casting a look back at her with a lopsided grin, he gestures to the path that would take them beyond the Peak and to the Cove. "And then my home, on the island of Tinuvel. It's colder than the other islands, but more beautiful. The Cove, with it's pine forests, surrounds the main mountain, which has arguably the best views to be found across the islands. Although," he offers with smirk as he turns back to her, "I am probably a little biased."

He attempts to meet her gaze again, wanting to read her reaction to his closer proximity and to the words that he has offered. "What about you, Oksana. What sort of place do you come from?" From here, it's much easier to see the way the flecks of white and gold intermingle in her mane, and to appreciate the fine whorls in her dark chestnut coat. He wanted, more than anything in the moment, to reach across and touch her gently. Establishing a physical connection had always served as his solid in with any mare, but he holds off for now. Fall remains a few weeks away at best, and he would not have the lure of the season on his side to coax her into accepting his proximity. Better to go slow… or, at least as slow as Solomon ever moved.

Solomon