The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS


what a wicked game to play

what a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you


It was quiet, but wasn’t it always in his home of solitude?

His family may be here but still Switch continued to avoid him like the plague, and while he had half the mind to drag her out and force her to do something he’d rather not sully any hope left between them. Often times he’d hear his daughter and son happily chattering to each other as they played but otherwise he was alone on his rounds that kept him going through the worst parts of the day.

After patrolling the farthest corner of his territory he makes his way to the main oasis, the pool of water there wasn’t the coldest given the heated temperature that had worked his body into a sweat, but it was enough to starve off the thirst that claws at his throat. Water drips from his chin when he finally pulls away, movement to his left announcing him of his son's arrival that has him immediately turning and heading away from whatever drama Fuego had planned; he wanted no part in such shenanigans. Surely his son was only doing his mother’s doing, he bitterly ponders this, pushing himself onward up the slope of a sandy dune that brings him face to face with a rather familiar face and suddenly his ill temper is all but washed away.

“I could have sworn your parting words were to fuck off,” Fiero has a chesire grin slipping across his lips when looking over the pretty mare he’d stumble across ther ein the peak, and lucky for him she was already so far into his home he didn’t have it in him to let her go so easily. “Yet here you are,” his wolfish gaze looks her up and down, seeing not much has changed other than her being overworked from treading these lands without a guide.

The dunalino shifts his weight back, resting the rim of a hind hoof on its edge as he relaxes, almost settling himself back for whatever explosive response the fiery mare before him would no doubt provide him. Even in the peak she’d been interesting, and so far he was not disappointed. “A name for a pretty face, and I'll let you have a drink,” Fiero dangles his offer like bait, lifting his face to her own height and showing he’d not back down.

what a wicked thing to say you've never felt this way
fiero.
Son of Sicily & Rade
html � dante. image � valerie.


Replies:


Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:





Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->