Solomon

It is a strange thing, to watch the seduction of a mare he wants from afar. To see her skin twitch and jump and shiver because of someone else's touch. To see her eyes dull at the input of sense and feeling. Normally it is his lips on someone's skin that elicits such a reaction, and his own reward to see the aftermath of such careful attention. To only watch and not touch is a novel experience, and not one that he will seek out often, but it is seductive in it's own allure. Still, he takes what appreciation he can in the skillful way the two mares manipulate Çiçek into a near frenzy, and remains where he is only by locking his knees.

With a stamp of her hoof, the golden mare breaks free from the two of them and dances lithely away. Unabashedly, he follows her movement with hungry appreciation, even as she ducks her head and bargains for a race instead. Solomon hardly waits for Faolain's nod of dismissal before he is following the spotted rump of the mare he most desires, laughter bursting from him as his hooves dig into the waterlogged beach sand.

He can tell that Faolain and Rivaini have given chase as well, but the black mare's sedate pace implies that she means to leave them alone for at least a brief moment, which is a consideration he had not expected from the Teke, but deeply appreciated all the same.

Çiçek darted ahead of him, and he found himself willfully lagging behind despite having the athleticism to keep up, if not overtake her. The way the sun glittered across the gold of her back, sparking off each gem of color in the bright blanket across her body, kept drawing his eye and he admired the lean bunching and shifting of her form. Like a gazelle, she skipped over the beautiful tide pools and he laughed at the challenge before shifting gears so that he could catch up to the beautiful mare before she ran from him entirely.

On they raced until a curve of the shore deposited them into a small Cove (fitting, he thinks absently), and the girl whirled to face the direction they'd come with a high laugh that reverberated around them. Playfully he dodges her gaze, going wide so that he might end up behind her only a few paces away, his emerald eyes bright with amusement.

The powerful arch of his neck bows as she turns to face him and he steps towards her so that when she reaches for his cheek, she makes contact with him. He chuckles softly at her jest and shakes his head, before murmuring his own response. "It is not a race if you have already won, flower girl."

He reaches up to brush one of the petals entwined in her mane with his own dusky lips with a smirk before trailing those same lips down the pale silver of her mane and across her own cheek. "Mmm," he sighs as he pulls back from her just enough to meet her gaze. "Seeing you draped in flowers is almost enough to make me regret settling in the Cove and not here in Atlantis."

Playfully he stretches to bump her shoulder with his muzzle, taking a step forward as he does. "But I think you could roll yourself in pine needles and mud and I would feel just as drawn to you, Çiçek."

Given their proximity, his voice is husky with desire and he is not particularly shy as he chastely traces the slender slope of her shoulder upward. She is a ray of sunshine against the dark jungle, a pot of honey amongst a nest of flowers. She could well launch herself at him in attack, he thinks, and he would not mind in the slightest if it meant more of her skin against his own.

Still, he has not won her in the grand scheme of things and thus must take it slow. As much as he would like for them to join together on this beautiful beach, their coupling is not the only victory he seeks today. It may take him more than one trip to woo the spotted little mare, but he would have her in the Cove come Spring, whether by hell or high water.

Dutch Harness Horse Mutt | Champagne Grullo Tobiano Stallion | 17 Hands | The Cove