I love you more in my head
but I’ll love you better when I’m dead
⬡ ⬡ ⬡
The autumn breeze was cool and peaceful as it swirled through Naydra’s white-blond hair. It brought the scents of Fall to her on her perch, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the reek of Lagoon stallions, but they were the only truly unpleasant odors that reached her. The fragrance of flowers and pine trees and one specific individual were drawn into fluttering nostrils with purpose.
She had hoped he would come.
Naydra was not so foolish to believe herself to be any more intelligent than any other creature, but that was probably the humblest thing about her. She still knew what her presence did to others, what she did to stallions, and she wielded this knowledge like a blade. She might not guarantee a man would not see right through her act, but she could be mostly certain that he’d be tempted. It was that temptation that she used. Knowing that you could not truly control another being (and anyone who wished to do so were fools) opened the door to a great many other possibilities. Naydra did not have to control; she needed only to occupy. Through mystery or confusion or sex, Naydra occupied minds. When her suitors thought of her, she won. It was the lowest-effort form of manipulation, but Naydra was truly a master. Her sisters might often be able to bend stallions to their will with honeyed words, promises and threats, but Naydra’s stallions bent on their own.
She watched him slither up the mountain, muscles coiling and bunching beneath that lovely oiled-bronze coat. He was exactly the kind of specimen she loved; cunning, intelligent, uncontrollable. Perfect. He rolled up and over the ledge like the tide, inviting himself into her space, undoubtedly aware that he had been invited already — considering he had made it up here alive. They took a few moments to appreciate one another, before his voice flowed into the space between them, soft and dangerous.
“Hmm,” she purred, gaze clawing over him with a hunger. “For the view, indeed.” His attention had shifted craftily from her to the forest below, and then back, but Naydra felt safe in the assumption that his awareness of her was constant. She did not bother to fathom what his reasons were — for playing an oh-so-subtle game of cat-and-mouse with his gaze, for entertaining her by following her up the mountain — it only mattered that he was here, and Naydra was certain that he was here for her. She had gauged him to be dangerous and clever, and had an utter fool stumbled upon her by chance on this remote and (well, let’s be honest) romantic ledge, Naydra would have clocked him. The bronze mountain lion was, undoubtedly, not a fool.
A vixen smile played coyly at Naydra’s velvet lips as she enjoyed the game, for this game was a good one. He had not asked for her name, a move that the coal-black mare assumed was intentional, and one that made the entire ordeal all the more delicious. She moved toward him, her steps slow and deliberate, feline and predatory, but instead of pouncing once she had her target, Naydra continued until she stood facing the bronze stallion, with her muzzle hovering at his withers. “Stay a while, why don’t you,” she said, her tone husky and inviting. Her lips drew closer, delicate nostrils flaring as she drank in his scent, but she did not touch him — yet. “We can watch the sunset.”
Then she pulled away, ever so slightly; a deliberate move, slow and calculated, intended to see if he would maintain the distance between them by leaning as well, or letting her break the invisible tether she had placed on the two of them by coming so close. There was no wrong answer, but Naydra was willing to give quite a lot, if the stallion would decide to take it.
Naydra
mare. 16hh. silver black. rougaru x visurix.
