Meadow

He wanted to possess her. Not like a jealous lover would possess a pretty woman, but as a great red trophy that would sit beautifully on his shelf and be something that he could admire time, and time again. Personally, if I didn’t know Valens any better, he would have stripped her of her skin and wore it like a poorly sewn together onesie- but violence was so out of the speckled stallion’s mind, that he probably couldn’t even spell the word.

Valens leans in close, his warmth against hers, his blue eyes contrasting prettily against her shining skin and his dark hair being brushed by the softest breeze that rubs up against her shoulder.

Boy, getting a little intimate, don’t you think?

“Nekharat! Oh, I love it. Poetic and strong- I’m sure you drive everyone wild.” He cooes to her, deftly stepping away and giving her a fabulous smile and a little wink. Obviously someone as stunning as the desert woman would never be without suitors, and certainly Valens would happily listen to all her stories like a little girl at a sleepover part. “Anyone? Anyone special? There has to be, I mean look at your.” Like a worshipper that has found his idol, bowing down on his knees to some great statuette on a plinth, the spotted stallion is clearly enamored.

Of course, not in the traditional sense, but it was likely that no one would know that little tidbit until Valens had been around the block a few times, as it were.

At her question he smiles again, happy to have more attention foisted upon him and knowing that he sang like a canary. It was, after all, his god-given talent to be able to sing like the angels. “Oh that? Just a wee song my mother used to sing me. Pretty, no? She had a fabulous voice though, I was only half as lucky.” Fishing for compliments was his gift, and he bats his dark eyelashes at her seductively, hoping to hear some words intended to pump his ego.