The mare had stepped away, but not left. Viđarr is relieved, nearly instantly. His pulse settled, and she was… she was still here. The contact had been too brief, and it left him longing for more. Viđarr wouldn’t force anything on anyone, much less force himself on anyone, no. Instead it’s comfortably grateful that she had decided to halt her retreat.
Suspended in her flight. The mare still had one of her hooves up. Viđarr was so incredibly dearly hoping that she decided to stay, at least for the moment. Just a moment… just a few more moments. The shadow of a stallion can hope that he can steal a little more time with her. A minute. A long minute, one that stretches into silence. Viđarr had shattered their silence moments ago, and he longs to speak more, but it doesn’t feel right.
No, speaking doesn’t feel right. Head lowered once more, the stallion studies her with his honey gold eyes. Viđarr longs to close the gap, to take the chance. Focusing on the beat of his heart, on the breath in his lungs, he was trying his best. Touch was important, and there’s a certain gravity that he feels in moments like this. A winter chill settled into his bones, and maybe being by someone’s side would chase that away.
Viđarr makes the decision. His feet stayed in place, but the stallion reached out with his elegant head. “It’s okay,” the words are quiet, his voice soft. The accent is heavy. Words clear. Gaze soft… anything he could to show her that he’s not a threat. Everything about Viđarr in these moments is gentle. Please don’t go.
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