For as much as Warsong had come to hate the idea of anyone lording over her and 'claiming' her as their own, the words 'You are mine' sends a delightful chill down her back, while in the back of her mind, there is a nagging twinge of agitation to punish the male for thinking that she could be anything but her own.. For daring to fancy himself superior to her.

But she let the moment pass, and let him guide her own. He didn't even need to tell her forcefully: she followed his lead until he stopped, and for that night she slept close to him. Peacefully so, even. But who knew how long her vulnerability would last...

Of course it didn't. For her, such things never last as from there on, Warsong became the mare she'd always been known to be; hot blooded, temperamental with an occasional grooming session in between that solidified her feelings and connection with him. If anything, those small tastes of affection meant more than anything. At least, to her, it did. Even in this wasteland of sandy ground. For that reason, Warsong remained near the more solid grounds and most obvious food sources, though most important of all, where the water sources were.

That was where she loitered, today. Along the shade near the water collection napping through the intense afternoon heat. When she woke, it was midday (probably a few hours shy of nightfall) and the mare could feel a shift in the air; the seasons were beginning to change and so too, was she. The fire that roared within her shifted, intensifying. She knew exactly what it was, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Olaf would become a number of things, as well; agitated, interested, and even more possessive (if such was even possible!). Her ebon tail flicked behind her as she yawned, her cocked foot setting down rather than resting and she stepped out into the sun.

The moment the light touched her, she could feel the cooking burn of the intense rays that bore down. It was tenfold the heat of any average run-of-the-mill summer she'd experienced in any of her life, and it was uncomfortable. She could have been worse off, though. She could have been near-black like Olaf, she was lucky to be dun. Luckier still, to be half white. She wades out into the water, sloshing noisily. Down she went, hips first followed by her chest, rolling in the water (though her head never quite completely submerges.). She was content to play in the water, rather enjoying herself for the moment.

WARSONG

save your breath.
you'll need it for when i tear you limb from limb.