There are none who watch the dark pair— they seem to exist in a world apart from their own kind, a world that is empty and still— so the intricate steps of their silent dance are witnessed by them and them alone. But their performance is no less meaningful for the lack of an audience; if anything, it means more to Lanfear that the single creature who shares her world sees her. That he even seems to understand her in the way that he doesn't chase after her. Instead, the stallion stands his ground and reaches out toward her, speaking softly. It’s okay. And though the blanketed mare’s coat gives a little shiver in response, she does relax, and even lists forward too. It’s a subtle motion, easily missed; like the way one magnet might shift to reorient itself to the movement of another.
But there is nothing subtle about the hunger in her dark eyes, and the certainty that abruptly replaces doubt.
There is nothing subtle about the way she returns to his side, either. For once, the spotted woman moves boldly and without hesitation, breaching the distance between them in a matter of seconds. And though her ears have twisted back to lose themselves in the dark sea of her mane, it’s more a reflex than an intentional display of hostility. Lanfear has never been so close to her own kind without attempting to intimidate them away; it’s inevitable that even when she succumbs willingly, it won’t be without some mixed signals. That said, her lips still cover her blunt teeth, and her gaze is soft; curious. Having yielded to the stranger, the sable mare wonders what he will do. Will he touch her again, or hold back out of fear that she might pull away again?
In the same way, Lanfear also wonders what her own reaction will be. She is doing her best to fight the primal half of her nature and stay, as her companion had asked. She is even trying to conceal the small hints of fear and discomfort that her body might have otherwise betrayed. The quiver of nostrils, the jerky sway of her tail. The rigid set of her jaw and the rapid dart of her eyes. Right now, the only things that express the woman’s uncertainty is the way she looks at the male without meeting his gaze directly, and the way she tucks her chin to cover the soft, vulnerable flesh of her throat.
Blowing the breath from her lungs in a soft sound that is somehow both a question and an answer, Lanfear invites the obsidian stallion to do what he will.
For however long her courage holds, she is his.
