***
Aranck’s encounter with the gold stallion had at least done something. It stirred ideas. As he stepped away, the starnight painted vanner contemplated his next move. He needed mares, he needed power. Sadly, he needed allies and he needed to keep his intentions off his smug face. With a huff, he left the meadow, mildly uncaring if Cullen followed him. Pointedly, he avoided the Common. As much as stalking the hunting ground called to him, he needed at least a few who could be convinced to stay. There were other ways to get a mare to bend and to break, without leaving a mark. They were simply skills he had yet to fully hone.
Shaking his great pale mane he decided to follow the river to the falls. The peaceful ripples along the smoothed stones helped to smooth his own features. The growing mist settled on his pelt, causing him to shimmer in the sunlight, giving him a far more angelic glowing look than a demon should have been able to adopt. Still, he allowed the mask to fall as he followed the trail of a freshly scented prey.
Beside the lush green foliage only a consistent water source could produce, Arack found the subject of his hunt. A mare stood beside the gentle falls, staring at them as though they held the answers to all her earthly troubles. The stallion exhaled, remembering how easily Cullen had picked up on his intentions. Biting his tongue in distaste he forced himself to note his own behavior and relax his jaw, his neck, and his shoulders. As he moved forward he embraced the thrill of a new kind of chase.
Good evening. His voice was lowered, purposefully deep with a purr as silky smooth as the glasslike water down river. He glanced at the still greenery she had been staring at and back to her face. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. This seems like a beautiful place to rest. Though, you seem troubled. His eyes and ears were trained on her, the hunger hopefully not apparently through the masking mists surrounding them. ARANCK
....far far from the sky. |