Meadow

Solomon

The mare turned to him as though she hadn't seen him, but offered her dark muzzle agreeably. The soft skin of her muzzle was gentle against his own, and he drank deeply of the spicy feminine scent of her. His compliment seemed to have left her in a state of surprise, and she eyed him with confusion, as though he were delusional to offer her such words. Solomon doubted that she had never been complimented, as the sleek bluish shade of her figure was beautifully stark against the withered grasses of late autumn and he certainly could not have been the only one to notice. The darkness of her limbs only served to draw his eye back to them, admiring the clean lines of her elegant limbs. Even if fall didn't make every eligible stallion hyper-aware of the presence of any mare, pretty or not, Zimri was a striking figure to watch.

Solomon chuckles at her question and he shakes his head slightly. "I don't know much of you yet, Zimri." He glances to the side briefly before re-affixing his gaze back to the mare. "I only meant to say that I'm glad I didn't leave earlier, when the storm hit."

Like a slow burn, the smile on his lips broadens and he elaborates so that she will know his commentary to be a compliment. "I wouldn't have been able to see your beautiful face, or to say hello if I had."

Solomon settles then, allowing his white splashed hip to cock in relaxation. She didn't seem to consider him a threat, but things changed quickly here in the aisles, especially with the season putting everyone on edge. A lone mare like Zimri had plenty to fear from unknown stallions like himself, unprotected as she was here. He could not smell the arid air of the desert, or the cloying scent of Atlantis' flowers. Mostly she smelled of herself, but under that was a land and a stallion he did not know. Luthien, then?

"Well, you're welcome to come back with me when I go home," he offers with a chuckle. While he would gladly start back now, he doubted she was taken enough with him to accept. And there was the issue of not knowing where she was from or who she belonged to. "Where are you from, Zimri?"

Both of his emerald eyes sweep to meet hers and he watches avidly for her reaction, waiting to see how she would react to his commentary.

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