a warrior doesn’t show their heart; the axe reveals it - " />
The Lost Islands
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a warrior doesn’t show their heart; the axe reveals it


made by pirate


young mare | 17hh | mutt | EE aa RnT | deaf in right ear | frost


For a brief second, Ashteroth had seen confusion glitter in his eyes when she did not turn and flee like a meek fawn. That did not last, as he mirrored her motion and rushed out of his hiding place to shine in the light of the moon with her. She had thought they would clash; to pursue their lust in battle and blood, but that was not so. The painted beast slid to a halt, his hind legs digging into the snow and leaf litter beneath to then rise towards the goddess above them. He did not stand to his full height, not exposing himself so easily, but neither did she. Ashteroth would not allow him to think he could stand over her in dominance, to turn her into the prey by a singular act of male pride.


Ashteroth rose in a half rear, her lightly feathered forelegs giving a few lashes to the air as a squeal of anger intertwines with his scream. As they both return to the earth, his seeking teeth were met with flesh as she moves forward instead of away from his snaking gesture. But the painted stallion cannot receive without giving as well; the young mare’s dark lips peeling back from her own teeth as she sought to mark his flesh in the same fashion that he did her own. Rather than to pinch the skin upon his shoulder, she hopes to latch onto the crest of his neck where it meets his withers; to punish him as she had sought to do in the first place by a leaving a well-placed bruise.


When the mare jerks her head away, the wild tangle of her mane dancing upon her arched neck, she snaps the thick tresses of her tail from flank to flank. Ashteroth finds motion once again; pressing her side firmly against the stallion as she circles around him; leaving behind her scent upon his flesh as well as his musk clinging to her own. “Mine.” She whispers sultrily in his ear as she comes up along the other side of him, standing shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip; firmly pressed against him. Perhaps it was not the same beastly growl of the brute she pressed against, but so far, the tone Ashteroth had used was the only feminine thing she had done.


ASHTEROTH




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