†
Celestine.
She is as different from Shiloh as the copper-dipped beauty is from quiet, passive Sonorae. Celestine knows the weight of her own words and lets them fall almost carelessly from her lips, is deliberate in the grace and sensuality of her own movements. Even the backward cant of her ears at his question is elegantly done, a synchronized sweep that draws the eye and holds.
Temblor is both entranced, and wary.
But she has made him no promises, and he has offered her nothing, yet; merely secured for her a new berth, one in which he intends she should thrive. Her femininity is powerful. It drew his gaze and will likely catch the attention of others. It is only a matter of time before she is targeted by another, be it her former companion or someone else with an eye for art. Temblor is keen to see what other strengths lie beneath her pretty coat and and the coy spark in her eyes. Were she to walk at his shoulder, he is certain heads would turn—he remembers the Ruins —and there is something so damned satisfying at having the warmth of a desirable mare beside him, one he may both flaunt and remain confident in his possession of.
"That we will. Come," Temblor invites, turning to lead her into the trees. "Let me show you around."
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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