Crisp winter evenings like these make Viđarr feel alive. He’s pleased with how it’s gone on. Yes, the sky would start showing pink and purple, shining and brilliant. The creature’s tail flickers at his haunches as he crushes the winter grass between his teeth. It’s not as flavorful as it would be in spring, in summer, but it sated his hunger. The cold, as well, is really quite nice. He was a shadow on the horizon, smooth black coat gleaming in the rising sun.
Viđarr notices the woman as she crosses into the Meadow. From this distance, he notes that she’s tall and sturdy-- admirable qualities in a woman. She’s painted brightly as well, white markings catching the low light. He is more alert now that he’s not alone. Viđarr had to be concerned, in case anyone else was to intervene. The creature doesn’t take well to strangers disturbing women who were trying to mind their own business. He’d keep an eye on her.
Oh, and she was coming closer. Viđarr’s head lifts, honey colored eyes catching the low light. “One can never be too careful.” There’s a wry smile on his lips, expression warming as he speaks to the woman. His voice is deep, accent distinct. Viđarr studies the woman in detail now. “Are you cold?” It’s an earnest question, and regardless, the stallion steps to act as a break between the woman and the prevailing breeze. He wouldn’t step closer, leaving the distance polite.
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