sephiroth
She steps forward again, her breath warm on his quivering nostrils. He still doesn't know her name, and she doesn't know his. Truthfully, he doesn't mind. There had been a time the name had ashamed him, a gift from his parents that he hid from the world. He took up a false name and ignored his history. He'd come to terms with who he was eventually, reclaiming his identity and making it his. But it was not all he was, after all, that much was evident by the intermingled breathing of strangers.
"So why don't you show me this kingdom of yours, handsome?"
The corners of Sephiroth's lips curl up into a grin and he gives a nod before stepping away, but not before reaching out to touch his whiskered muzzle against the spot where her neck met her shoulder, if he'd let her. The touch was brief but held more meaning than his words could have said. Sephiroth had no intention of claiming her by force, she was far too wild and mysterious for such a thing, that much he could tell. But it was an invitation, should she choose to accept it. He would not force the issue with teeth or hoof should she decide to meet his touch with pinned ears.
"It would be my honor," he says, not taking his eyes off her, as he moves to her side. The Thicket was to the north east, and their best bet was to travel along the border of the Falls and the Meadow before they'd reach the shore. When Sephiroth had come to the Commons he had not expected to meet someone like her, but he was far from disappointed. For the briefest of moments she'd helped him to forget his worries, and for that he would be eternally grateful, even if she didn't know just how much she'd done. He only hoped the Thicket would not disappoint her and she'd stay. As such a though clouds his mind, he looks back to her and lets the charming smile return.