Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on July 7, 2020 at 12:30:04 PM by Solomon
Solomon
Eagerly he watches as she paces closer to him, which he takes as permission to do the same. Like a vision crafted for his own personal torment, she looks up at him with the same rouge smile he had employed more often than he can count and some deep need twists within him. Its as much as he can do to stop himself from taking her beneath him here and now, with the meadow to watch for all he cared.
Her words stop him, not because she moves to push him away, but purely because he wants to commit to memory the way she had said them. All in good time, she says as though begging for forgiveness for a sin she would certainly commit again. A wicked grin cuts across his lips and he stretches forward then to brush the gently sloping line of her shoulder with his own muzzle, trailing teeth and tongue before pulling away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
They pace together then, the subtle brushing of her barrel against him a temptation in and of itself. Like an aphrodisiac, it keeps the thought of touching her at the forefront of his mind, and he can all too easily imagine what it might be like to skip the civil conversation and jump straight into appreciating each other's physical attributes. She doesn't allow this, however, and he finds himself drawn into her tale.
As she names herself princess, he eyes her anew, recalculating what he knows of her. It would make sense for him to gift a princess, even if it was from a land far away, to the king of Tinuvel, but even the thought of such a thing brings a wave of jealousy so strong it nearly chokes him. This golden jewel will be his and no others. Even if this family of hers came to fetch her away he would fight tooth and nail to keep her here, at his side. They had squandered their chance to keep her safe, and he would not make the same mistake.
Still, it is an interesting story to share, and he finds himself wondering what kind of princess the mare before him was. Had she been raised in a controlled court of rules and tradition? Or left to grow on her own like a wild rose, prickly but beautiful?
At her sarcasm, he chuckles but saves his commentary for the finish of her story. Bowing the proud crest of his head he takes a few quick steps forward as to offer her a small bow before returning to her side. "You'll have to forgive my lack of respect, Princess Seline. I did not know I was in the company of royalty."
His teasing is light as he looks at her, and after a moment he shakes his head and chuckles. "I should have known it was something along the case. You're far too pretty to be a nobody."
As they walk, Solomon slowly but surely guides them toward the home that she asks of, eager to return Seline to the protection his borders offered. It did not sound as though she feared that her brother or family would follow her, but he would rest more soundly knowing that she was in familiar territory.
Her comment about being kingly earns yet another flash of a grin, although he does not immediately comment. Solomon was no king, not yet, but perhaps the day was fast coming when this would no longer be the case. At her insinuation that he allowed other stallions to lurk within his home, he chuckles. "Do you truly think I would trust anyone else to resist a temptation like yourself?"
He makes a playfully dismissive tch sound before shaking his head. "No, the Cove is my own and the only other fellow there hardly raises his head from the two mares that he has."
As much as Solomon would like for Requiem to step up and take the mantle of second that he had abdicated, he very much doubted that this would happen. Like himself, Requiem had suffered losses in the mysterious disappearances in the spring, but unlike the tobiano, had proven less resilient at bouncing back. The position remained empty, and Solomon knew that he would soon need to fill it. His recent skirmishes with Cain, Wasp, and Roheryn only proved to him that he needed to be extra vigilant to protect his herd.
"I am sorry to say but you will only have me to ply for affection," he offers with charm intact. "But I promise to be a very effective cuddler."
Again he reaches out to touch her, unable to get enough of the mare-sweet smell of her. Tauntingly he pulls at the silk soft strands of her mane before running his muzzle down the slope of her shoulder, retracing his earlier caress to breathe a small laugh against her throat. Instinct and want jostle within him for position, but he pulls away with a toss of his head.
"What made you leave? Surely you had ranks of eligible males piling at your feet and yet you're here, with me. Not that I'm complaining." He assures her with a smile. He wasn't sure there was much that she could do in this moment that would upset him in the slightest.
Her words stop him, not because she moves to push him away, but purely because he wants to commit to memory the way she had said them. All in good time, she says as though begging for forgiveness for a sin she would certainly commit again. A wicked grin cuts across his lips and he stretches forward then to brush the gently sloping line of her shoulder with his own muzzle, trailing teeth and tongue before pulling away as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
They pace together then, the subtle brushing of her barrel against him a temptation in and of itself. Like an aphrodisiac, it keeps the thought of touching her at the forefront of his mind, and he can all too easily imagine what it might be like to skip the civil conversation and jump straight into appreciating each other's physical attributes. She doesn't allow this, however, and he finds himself drawn into her tale.
As she names herself princess, he eyes her anew, recalculating what he knows of her. It would make sense for him to gift a princess, even if it was from a land far away, to the king of Tinuvel, but even the thought of such a thing brings a wave of jealousy so strong it nearly chokes him. This golden jewel will be his and no others. Even if this family of hers came to fetch her away he would fight tooth and nail to keep her here, at his side. They had squandered their chance to keep her safe, and he would not make the same mistake.
Still, it is an interesting story to share, and he finds himself wondering what kind of princess the mare before him was. Had she been raised in a controlled court of rules and tradition? Or left to grow on her own like a wild rose, prickly but beautiful?
At her sarcasm, he chuckles but saves his commentary for the finish of her story. Bowing the proud crest of his head he takes a few quick steps forward as to offer her a small bow before returning to her side. "You'll have to forgive my lack of respect, Princess Seline. I did not know I was in the company of royalty."
His teasing is light as he looks at her, and after a moment he shakes his head and chuckles. "I should have known it was something along the case. You're far too pretty to be a nobody."
As they walk, Solomon slowly but surely guides them toward the home that she asks of, eager to return Seline to the protection his borders offered. It did not sound as though she feared that her brother or family would follow her, but he would rest more soundly knowing that she was in familiar territory.
Her comment about being kingly earns yet another flash of a grin, although he does not immediately comment. Solomon was no king, not yet, but perhaps the day was fast coming when this would no longer be the case. At her insinuation that he allowed other stallions to lurk within his home, he chuckles. "Do you truly think I would trust anyone else to resist a temptation like yourself?"
He makes a playfully dismissive tch sound before shaking his head. "No, the Cove is my own and the only other fellow there hardly raises his head from the two mares that he has."
As much as Solomon would like for Requiem to step up and take the mantle of second that he had abdicated, he very much doubted that this would happen. Like himself, Requiem had suffered losses in the mysterious disappearances in the spring, but unlike the tobiano, had proven less resilient at bouncing back. The position remained empty, and Solomon knew that he would soon need to fill it. His recent skirmishes with Cain, Wasp, and Roheryn only proved to him that he needed to be extra vigilant to protect his herd.
"I am sorry to say but you will only have me to ply for affection," he offers with charm intact. "But I promise to be a very effective cuddler."
Again he reaches out to touch her, unable to get enough of the mare-sweet smell of her. Tauntingly he pulls at the silk soft strands of her mane before running his muzzle down the slope of her shoulder, retracing his earlier caress to breathe a small laugh against her throat. Instinct and want jostle within him for position, but he pulls away with a toss of his head.
"What made you leave? Surely you had ranks of eligible males piling at your feet and yet you're here, with me. Not that I'm complaining." He assures her with a smile. He wasn't sure there was much that she could do in this moment that would upset him in the slightest.
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