Falls

the reaction of her body is dictated by the nature of their first encounter. despite the change of season, marzanna’s golden skin still quivers at the idea of his touch. she does not turn her head though, when he calls out, nor direct her blue eyes to watch his approach. the mare would not stoop so low as to simper at his feet when he came to call.

it isn’t until the steady sound of his hoofbeats slows from the trot to a walk that the pale mare finally awards him with her gaze. her eyes, masked with a veneer of innocence, turn softly from the cascading falls to peek demurely up at him through their curtain of white lashes. though a flame of irritation burns darkly within her as she remembers his insult, she muzzles it deftly.

as she had the first, marzanna leans into his touch, feeling the warmth of his breath and rising into it. her lips part and she utters his name, drawing a sultry breath, “ah, solomon….” with surprising tenderness she reaches her ivory muzzle up to his shoulder, tracing it slowly to the curve of his ribs.

his words fall on her ears and she steels herself into neutrality. now, now marzanna, what would it do to let that temper run away with you? nothing. trailing to the cove had crossed her mind, she knew it would have pleased him… but what would have it gotten her? she could not give him that little victory without earning her own…

his words turn in her mind, stretching those agile gears. she had anticipated them, after all, she did not offer him anything in return other than her company. but it wasn’t for her to answer this question… marzanna knew her worth, or at least had some estimation of it. the mare was cunning. it was for him to decide what he thought she was worth. though she has everything to gain, unlike him she has nothing to lose…

she tips her painted muzzle upward, eyes meeting his with heady curiosity. ”darling, i cannot call such a place my home when it’s king can only offer me his ardor… it is a different currency i require, though your attention does suit me quite well.” the words are nimble on her tongue, spoken just gently enough that she hopes to let him down and stroke his ego all at once. she does not fear him, though she has seen the twin of her own monster lurking beneath his coy words and rakish smiles. her thick winter coat hides its own map of healed scrapes and scars. though it was not nearly as tough as her heart, her body could handle it’s own.