Does he truly care?
She can’t help but to wonder about the sultry male beside her; from his cheshire grin to the sparkle in his gleaming green eyes he was a tough one to read. His affection for her was clearly known though, this she knew from his attempt to persuade her away before. Solomon was a dark terrible thing that often weighed heavily on her mind; a small devil on her shoulder that kept whispering sinful things in her ear. “My son’s fare well,” Feray manages to speak up again once her head clears from the fog brought on by his teasing words and the heat between their bodies; did he feel the pull, her mind wonders ever so briefly. The world around her seemed to be on mute except for the steady rise and fall of their hooves on the crisp dew covered ground, and the heavy beating of her heart that resounds in her ears. “My oldest, Ajnur, is to be lead of the badlands soon,” her tone is proud and sure, trying to draw the focus away from what was surely unknowingly budding between them, “as soon as he is of age, he will take over.” or else i may have to if he is not ready; words unsaid because she did not know. To lead would mean she’d be forever bound, and Feray didn’t think she was ready for that yet.
Her wandering soul still yearned for adventure.
Feray was not surprised to find out of Nzingha’s own adventuring, remembering well the spirit woman had told Sol she would see to him at a later date. Whatever happened after delivering her to Xiomara was the mare’s own business, so Feray was not at all put out by the knowledge. “Did she manage to teach you better manners or enlighten you of just how big headed you truly are,” she retorts on a laugh whilst giving a sideways look to him, peeking from under her lashes that flutter just so for maximum effect in an attempt to further the teasing quips happening between them. Despite her best efforts at trying to gain the upperhand on him, Solomon always remained just a step ahead, and she is very much caught off guard from his playing nudging that almost sends her sideways in an attempt to escape the fires that race along her skin from the briefest touch.
He hadn’t hurt her, at least not physically. Something holds her there, keeping her from truly running and that scared her the most. Her eyes remain ahead of them, unwilling to show him her defeat so easily as the comforting feeling of being in the wide open meadow is long gone as the trees swallow them up and they are terribly alone within the shadows of the forest. Had he always smelled like pine, but not just any, not like what grew here on the crossing; no, he carried such an earthy smell that surely came from the sap of the trees that called the cove home. Her face turns in his direction, nostrils flaring to catch more of that sharp and sweet smell he wore so well, and their eyes meet just as the word’s of liking his home leave his dark lips and bathe her searching nose in that intoxicating scent of his.
“Am I not close enough Solomon,” her words are but a whispered question on a breathless sigh, high on the pine he wears and that fills her lungs, the very act that could easily be put off on the fact she grew tired of his advances when it was really the exact opposite. The dazed look to her eyes would suggest otherwise if he probed deeper under the mask she wears. Feray loved that the most about going to new places, the chance to take in all the new scents; it was truly intoxicating. “Why go all the way there when I can feel the bite of the cold that lingers still on your skin? Or the array of scents you harbor on your coat from the sap I know is terribly hard to rub off in one go. You Solomon, are the cove itself in the flesh, just as I am the sands I walk across daily,” with each snippet of words that fly off her tongue she finds herself stepping closer to him as if to intimidate, and perhaps she was at first until she was suddenly pressing her frame into the welcoming form of his own she knew would not step away. This was supposed to feel wrong, yet why does her skin ripple with delight?
The season is heavy upon her, the inner workings of her thoughts blaming her actions on mother nature and the natural course of things. She snips at him, blunt teeth seeking to meet the skin of his cheek.