Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on August 17, 2020 at 10:24:27 AM by Solomon
Solomon
Flattery was the bread and butter of any great legacy, in his experience. While they could be started by might, they could not be kept solely with strength. Eventually, your body would not be enough to safeguard what you had gathered against those that wished to take it. Warsaw was an example of this. Solomon did not know what hall had occurred in the war on Luthien, but he knew how broken the pale stallion was when he returned home.
It would have been easy enough for Solomon to take from him then, but flattery had served him better in that instance, as it did in many others. With flattery, he earned an alliance that would have far-reaching benefits, rather than an enemy that would dog his steps. It was different, for mares, but the end goal was always the same. Each thing that he did, and every move that he made had to be made with the goal of empowering his legacy.
Even this, while on the surface was little more than a dance of mare and stallion, was just as much about the empire he hoped to build. Mares like Talisa were exactly what he was looking for. Those that combined confidence and passion were exactly what he wanted; it was a bonus that the pretty bay mare was wrapped in looks devastating enough to bring any man to his knees. It was this type of mare that he would build his legacy on, counting upon their influence to ensure that his children would be just as confident and driven as the mothers that birthed them.
Talisa is no stranger to flattery either, it seems. She pads his ego as easily as he had done to hers, and the smile on his lips deepens further until it resembles nothing so much as a wolfish grin. Eventually, she gives her name and he commits it to memory, knowing that he would do nearly anything to bring her back to the Cove. Like Marzanna, she had woven a spell of her own over him and he was already enamoured of her. For weeks he had chased after the golden mare, constantly travelling the Crossing until at last, he found her again. Secretly he was glad he had no queen positions to be bartered for, as he was certain that he would have been just as willing to work out some sort of bargain with her. She was precisely the type of mare that he needed at his side if he wanted to take over these isles, and he knew already that he would not stop until she was back home in the Cove with him.
And you would do well to forget the things I say and do... The huskiness of her words does something to him that he can't really explain, but loves all the same and a low groan emanates from his body as she reaches to touch him again. He freezes for a moment, not because he is unsure or doesn't know what to say, but rather because every molecule of his being demands that he claim all of her, in every way that he can. The line she traces with her muzzle along his body burns like wildfire, leaving smoldering cinders in its wake. Heaven knows I will.
"Then we should take advantage while we can," he says as he reaches for her, stretching to trail his lips along her topline as she slinks seductively against him. Each nerve ending along his body alighting with need and desire. "And do the things you might normally hold back from."
He shivers with the desire he has for her, and rests his lips with a subtle twitch against the delicate lift of her dock. She lashes him with the silken strands of her tail, in retaliation he thinks, and he is halfway to sliding his muzzle boldly down the ridge of her rump when she continues along, baiting him into behavior that was certainly not chaste in nature. He wants, more than anything in that moment, to turn and raise his chest above her feminine body and take her in the fierce, fast way that his body craves. To lose himself in the pleasure that he knows they would create together.
But she will be lost to him, if he does.
She is no Harley Quinn that could be convinced with careful attention in the days afterward that his intentions were pure. Nor is she the Peak mare that bore the brunt of his frustration after nearly losing Coda, all with the intention of never seeing her again. The intriguing bay mare has taunted him, and trailed her lips across his hide with impeccable skill, but she has given him any other indication of her willingness. Talisa does not strike him like a mare that will give her body to him without hours of dedicated labor on his part, and he is not in so powerful a position as to force his will upon her without repercussion. If he takes her here, he will never see her again, he is certain. She will not come with him, nor will she make it easy for him to find her later. And he wants her in all the ways that he can have her, even if he has to quell the base nature of his being to make it happen.
As her body slides along his, taking the source of his weakness away, his head dips briefly as he lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and chuckles at the relative absurdity of the situation. He has only known Talisa for brief moments, less than an hour, and yet he has already envisioned their future together. Solomon does not stay in that position long, unwilling to take his eyes from her any longer than he absolutely needed to. His neck bows as he curls toward her and the impish mask she wears, and he chuckles at her playful rejoinder.
"I thought maybe you were so taken by my charm that you found yourself speechless," his voice drips with amusement as he teases her, "or that you found yourself so overtaken by love at first sight that you forgot my initial carelessness in waking you."
Playfully he reaches for her again, unwilling to allow his body to be any further from her than absolutely necessary. Gently he tugs at the raven black of her mane, lingering for a moment before pulling away just enough to allow speech between them. "Since I'm making such good strides," he paused teasingly, offering her the faintest wink in the brightening darkness. "Care to share any tips for reaching the finish line?"
It would have been easy enough for Solomon to take from him then, but flattery had served him better in that instance, as it did in many others. With flattery, he earned an alliance that would have far-reaching benefits, rather than an enemy that would dog his steps. It was different, for mares, but the end goal was always the same. Each thing that he did, and every move that he made had to be made with the goal of empowering his legacy.
Even this, while on the surface was little more than a dance of mare and stallion, was just as much about the empire he hoped to build. Mares like Talisa were exactly what he was looking for. Those that combined confidence and passion were exactly what he wanted; it was a bonus that the pretty bay mare was wrapped in looks devastating enough to bring any man to his knees. It was this type of mare that he would build his legacy on, counting upon their influence to ensure that his children would be just as confident and driven as the mothers that birthed them.
Talisa is no stranger to flattery either, it seems. She pads his ego as easily as he had done to hers, and the smile on his lips deepens further until it resembles nothing so much as a wolfish grin. Eventually, she gives her name and he commits it to memory, knowing that he would do nearly anything to bring her back to the Cove. Like Marzanna, she had woven a spell of her own over him and he was already enamoured of her. For weeks he had chased after the golden mare, constantly travelling the Crossing until at last, he found her again. Secretly he was glad he had no queen positions to be bartered for, as he was certain that he would have been just as willing to work out some sort of bargain with her. She was precisely the type of mare that he needed at his side if he wanted to take over these isles, and he knew already that he would not stop until she was back home in the Cove with him.
And you would do well to forget the things I say and do... The huskiness of her words does something to him that he can't really explain, but loves all the same and a low groan emanates from his body as she reaches to touch him again. He freezes for a moment, not because he is unsure or doesn't know what to say, but rather because every molecule of his being demands that he claim all of her, in every way that he can. The line she traces with her muzzle along his body burns like wildfire, leaving smoldering cinders in its wake. Heaven knows I will.
"Then we should take advantage while we can," he says as he reaches for her, stretching to trail his lips along her topline as she slinks seductively against him. Each nerve ending along his body alighting with need and desire. "And do the things you might normally hold back from."
He shivers with the desire he has for her, and rests his lips with a subtle twitch against the delicate lift of her dock. She lashes him with the silken strands of her tail, in retaliation he thinks, and he is halfway to sliding his muzzle boldly down the ridge of her rump when she continues along, baiting him into behavior that was certainly not chaste in nature. He wants, more than anything in that moment, to turn and raise his chest above her feminine body and take her in the fierce, fast way that his body craves. To lose himself in the pleasure that he knows they would create together.
But she will be lost to him, if he does.
She is no Harley Quinn that could be convinced with careful attention in the days afterward that his intentions were pure. Nor is she the Peak mare that bore the brunt of his frustration after nearly losing Coda, all with the intention of never seeing her again. The intriguing bay mare has taunted him, and trailed her lips across his hide with impeccable skill, but she has given him any other indication of her willingness. Talisa does not strike him like a mare that will give her body to him without hours of dedicated labor on his part, and he is not in so powerful a position as to force his will upon her without repercussion. If he takes her here, he will never see her again, he is certain. She will not come with him, nor will she make it easy for him to find her later. And he wants her in all the ways that he can have her, even if he has to quell the base nature of his being to make it happen.
As her body slides along his, taking the source of his weakness away, his head dips briefly as he lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and chuckles at the relative absurdity of the situation. He has only known Talisa for brief moments, less than an hour, and yet he has already envisioned their future together. Solomon does not stay in that position long, unwilling to take his eyes from her any longer than he absolutely needed to. His neck bows as he curls toward her and the impish mask she wears, and he chuckles at her playful rejoinder.
"I thought maybe you were so taken by my charm that you found yourself speechless," his voice drips with amusement as he teases her, "or that you found yourself so overtaken by love at first sight that you forgot my initial carelessness in waking you."
Playfully he reaches for her again, unwilling to allow his body to be any further from her than absolutely necessary. Gently he tugs at the raven black of her mane, lingering for a moment before pulling away just enough to allow speech between them. "Since I'm making such good strides," he paused teasingly, offering her the faintest wink in the brightening darkness. "Care to share any tips for reaching the finish line?"
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