Desert

A part of her crows in delight as he takes her bait, and another part of her shrinks away in fear. Rougaru had always been a sight to see when he was angry, which had always been part of the problem. She might have been better-behaved if he wasn't so goddamn good-looking when he was pissed off.

Exhaustion clung to her slender limbs as she began to move out of his way, and stopped her from escaping the harsh pinch of his teeth. She squealed - a short, sharp sound - and launched a retaliatory kick from the affected leg that was pulled before it even made contact as her muscles screamed in protest. Aware she could not fend him off through kicks alone, she skirted forward another step or two and turned to face him again as he stomped his proclamation into the sand.

This is OUR home.

His words, more than anything, tempered the next taunt on her tongue. Our? Our? After learning of Titania's existence and of Rougaru's decision (fated or not) to meet the irritating comet-marked mare first, Vanya had subconsciously began to think of herself as other. It was a natural continuation of the annoying thoughts that had plagued her in Paradise, where the lingering memories of Monster and Zjeena were constant reminders of her lowered place in Rougaru's heart. Rougaru's past had been a goldmine of insecurity for the normally unflappable ballerina, and had been the reason she'd been so adamant that he return to her each night as a reminder of who they were to each other.

In his choice of words - intentional or not - she heard the echo of that same conviction. Of the passion that had once bound them so tightly together that no one could have come between them.

It is enough to keep her in place while he asserts his physical prowess and to keep her from slicing into him again with more knives against his pride. Her eyes narrow as he boasts of his ability, but she does not disagree with him. Vanya has no doubt of his capability. She well knew he was as perfectly equipped to end her as he was to defend her, despite her taunting.

Her muscles grow taut again as he moves close, and she lifts a forehoof warningly as he closes the gap between them. She craved his touch almost as much as she did the lure of power, but she had no real desire to die by his hooves today. This is a fresh start for us, he purred, trying to coax her back into trusting him.

Vanya still half expected Titania to show up at any moment, but everything in her wanted to believe Rougaru. To take this land - as unpalatable as it was - and turn it into a fresh start, just for them. It was risky. Riskier than the vast majority of her other escapades, if she were honest with herself...

But she wanted it. She wanted him.

As if Rougaru could feel her waffling, weighing the pros and cons of believing him, he not-so-subtly tipped the scales into his favor by prodding at her pride. She drew herself up instinctively, eyes narrowed at the subtle implication that she was not up for being his queen. She was made to wear a crown, just as he was made to be a King, and it wasn't as if he had many other options.

A thought that echoed hollowly with the reminder that she did not yet know where Titania was, nor of the speckled witch's plans.

His further taunting earns both a further narrowing of her eyes and a playful flick of her tail. It was likely stupid of her to trust him, but by gods she wanted to believe this charade, even if it only lasted a little while. "You know as well as I do what a man will promise me with just a little convincing," she answered, lips curled into a grin as she reminded him that the claws were there, even if she was agreeing to this temporary cease-fire.

"I'll be your queen again," she purred, matching the same tone he'd used earlier. She sidled close as she said it, wrapping herself around him so that their bodies brushed against one another. "But if you abandon me like that again, I'll cut off your balls and feed them to you."

A threat that was, arguably, empty given her lack of physical prowess. But what Vanya couldn't do physically, she'd find a way to achieve in some other manner, even if it killed her. She had no desire to be lost like that again, not while she still drew breath.