Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on February 16, 2020 at 05:46:54 AM by V A N Y A
OOC - I'm sorry?! I blame your lovely replies.
As she waits for him to respond, she studies him, not attempting to hide the way her eyes trace over his figure. Vanya can appreciate a man for his good looks, but if she were really telling the truth, a stallion's looks didn't even make the top three in her desire's for a stallion. Looks could make you proud - as they had her - but they didn't inherently convey any sort of power or worth. Vanya could be the prettiest creature on the planet, but if the heavens had seen fit to make her a shrinking violet it would have all been wasted.
Fortune favors the bold, as it were. No, for Vanya, her first desire was power. His power would become her power and so on. She knew ladies could run and manage their own kingdoms, but as a nubile filly had quickly dismissed his idea out of hand as soon as she considered it. Vanya was fully aware she had no business running her own herd. She was too young, too flighty, too ruled by her whims and passion. The desire to micromanage the protection and care of other lifeforms did not appeal to her.
What did appeal to her was having a stallion wrapped around her black stocking clad leg. She wanted him - whoever he may be - to want her in the same desperate way a starving owl sought out a mouse for a meal. She wanted hi eyes to follow her in a crowded herd, to seek her out when he didn't feel the basking glow of her attention. Was this feasible? Who was she to say? Even if this all-consuming desire faded for the first stallion to snare her, Vanya had no doubt that she could attract the attention of another.
The stallion before her flirts back and she rewards him with a grin, mimicking his bold step forward with a ladylike one of her own. It is with a slender foreleg outstretched, muzzle halfway outstretched to her red-bodied suitor that she pauses momentarily, eyes flicking to the forest line.
She senses him before she can see him. Vanya isn't immediately sure if he draws her attention so quickly because of his size, or simply because of his presence. He, like her, emanates cocksure confidence. Their shared disregard for the opinions of those around them is something she can sense, like a strong, heady perfume.
Like a moth to flames, they flock to her. She, the torch bearer, is delighted.
She can see the effect the other stallion has on the first - not so subtly given away by the way he stops closing the gap between them, and what she imagines is forced blandness on his part. Or she amends mentally, it had better be forced ambivalence. If she had already lost his attention, then he was of little use to her now.
Vanya rewards the massive silver stallion by angling her body toward him, crossing the lengthy stretch of her forelegs to do so. Her parents had gifted her with a great many things, but beauty was by far the most plentiful. Her long legs were clad in stockings of black, fading to a dark chocolate, then to a pale coffee over her body. White spread down the chiseled lines of her face from a blaze that spread over her muzzle, turning her lips a girlish pink. The high arch of her neck and tail belied the elegance of her breeding.
Vanya laughed at his words, tossing her head and taking a step in his direction. One point to the silver stud. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of settling down just yet. A girl has got to take her time to make the impression last."
A grin curls at the edges of her lips as she studies the lines of this newcomer, only slightly daunted by his size. She was a feminine creature by herself, but compared with the studdish lines of her body he made her feel positively girlish. Her mind works quickly to supply what it may feel like to stand side by side with him, her sensitive skin pressed against his silvered hide and her eyes flash with interest as a chill runs down her back. Interesting indeed.
The red male speaks again, and she turns her gaze back to him, interest piqued. A king, he said? Well that was certainly promising. Her head tilts with curiosity, and she turns her charms back to him in full.
"It's a pleasure," she lets the word draw more time from her lips that was strictly warranted, "to meet you Rougaru, king of Paradise. My name is Vanya, though I can't rightly say that I'm queen of anything but this patch of earth quite yet."
She teases slightly, letting her tone pick up. Vanya knew better than to outright ask anyone to crown her queen. No mare with a lick of sense would try that ploy. What she did want, however, was for them to think of her as a queen. And not just any queen, if she was being specific. She wanted them to think of her as their queen. At this side. A pretty trophy to lord over the other boys as a testament to their ability to capture and hold onto something beautiful.
"And who might you be, gorgeous?" She inquires of the new stallion, dragging her eyes from the silver bay to the smoke colored stallion with another grin.
As she waits for him to respond, she studies him, not attempting to hide the way her eyes trace over his figure. Vanya can appreciate a man for his good looks, but if she were really telling the truth, a stallion's looks didn't even make the top three in her desire's for a stallion. Looks could make you proud - as they had her - but they didn't inherently convey any sort of power or worth. Vanya could be the prettiest creature on the planet, but if the heavens had seen fit to make her a shrinking violet it would have all been wasted.
Fortune favors the bold, as it were. No, for Vanya, her first desire was power. His power would become her power and so on. She knew ladies could run and manage their own kingdoms, but as a nubile filly had quickly dismissed his idea out of hand as soon as she considered it. Vanya was fully aware she had no business running her own herd. She was too young, too flighty, too ruled by her whims and passion. The desire to micromanage the protection and care of other lifeforms did not appeal to her.
What did appeal to her was having a stallion wrapped around her black stocking clad leg. She wanted him - whoever he may be - to want her in the same desperate way a starving owl sought out a mouse for a meal. She wanted hi eyes to follow her in a crowded herd, to seek her out when he didn't feel the basking glow of her attention. Was this feasible? Who was she to say? Even if this all-consuming desire faded for the first stallion to snare her, Vanya had no doubt that she could attract the attention of another.
The stallion before her flirts back and she rewards him with a grin, mimicking his bold step forward with a ladylike one of her own. It is with a slender foreleg outstretched, muzzle halfway outstretched to her red-bodied suitor that she pauses momentarily, eyes flicking to the forest line.
She senses him before she can see him. Vanya isn't immediately sure if he draws her attention so quickly because of his size, or simply because of his presence. He, like her, emanates cocksure confidence. Their shared disregard for the opinions of those around them is something she can sense, like a strong, heady perfume.
Like a moth to flames, they flock to her. She, the torch bearer, is delighted.
She can see the effect the other stallion has on the first - not so subtly given away by the way he stops closing the gap between them, and what she imagines is forced blandness on his part. Or she amends mentally, it had better be forced ambivalence. If she had already lost his attention, then he was of little use to her now.
Vanya rewards the massive silver stallion by angling her body toward him, crossing the lengthy stretch of her forelegs to do so. Her parents had gifted her with a great many things, but beauty was by far the most plentiful. Her long legs were clad in stockings of black, fading to a dark chocolate, then to a pale coffee over her body. White spread down the chiseled lines of her face from a blaze that spread over her muzzle, turning her lips a girlish pink. The high arch of her neck and tail belied the elegance of her breeding.
Vanya laughed at his words, tossing her head and taking a step in his direction. One point to the silver stud. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of settling down just yet. A girl has got to take her time to make the impression last."
A grin curls at the edges of her lips as she studies the lines of this newcomer, only slightly daunted by his size. She was a feminine creature by herself, but compared with the studdish lines of her body he made her feel positively girlish. Her mind works quickly to supply what it may feel like to stand side by side with him, her sensitive skin pressed against his silvered hide and her eyes flash with interest as a chill runs down her back. Interesting indeed.
The red male speaks again, and she turns her gaze back to him, interest piqued. A king, he said? Well that was certainly promising. Her head tilts with curiosity, and she turns her charms back to him in full.
"It's a pleasure," she lets the word draw more time from her lips that was strictly warranted, "to meet you Rougaru, king of Paradise. My name is Vanya, though I can't rightly say that I'm queen of anything but this patch of earth quite yet."
She teases slightly, letting her tone pick up. Vanya knew better than to outright ask anyone to crown her queen. No mare with a lick of sense would try that ploy. What she did want, however, was for them to think of her as a queen. And not just any queen, if she was being specific. She wanted them to think of her as their queen. At this side. A pretty trophy to lord over the other boys as a testament to their ability to capture and hold onto something beautiful.
"And who might you be, gorgeous?" She inquires of the new stallion, dragging her eyes from the silver bay to the smoke colored stallion with another grin.
