Meadow

She seems surprised when Fell does not push too hard. He can’t blame her; he himself often does not know what drives him those times when he must ram himself bloody against someone’s boundaries, or where it goes the times in between. Sometimes, briefly, there is peace within him. Fell only wishes he knew how to conjure it from the turmoil, or coax it to stay just a little longer.

She speaks now, and Fell’s ears tick forward to listen. Something is different this time than it was their only other meeting. Vitani seems… cautious is not the right word, but it’s close. She has something to lose, and would rather nobody know about it. Even if Fell were capable of prying into this change, he likely would not attempt it. Nothing ensures the utter impregnability of a secret like someone trying to crack it open. In any case, he could be wrong; the golden sabino mare may have simply grown more careful in the shadows of Lagoon stallions, as anyone rightfully would.

When she speaks again, her voice is as full of venom as it was in the Bay. She pulls her muzzle back toward herself, and Fell resists the urge to follow her there, keeping the space between them negligible. He understands that she is a trinket of the Lagoon’s, and his ears tick back with frustration. He would not have expected her to leap into his arms for rescue, but neither did he understand Vitani to be the type to care very much about anybody’s rules.

He wonders what holds her here, and as much as he wishes to investigate the bachelor territory to find out for himself, he is rooted in place for now. There is no room in his head for much beyond the hormones of the season, the scent of the little lionness overpowering even the perfume of the Meadow’s field of flowers. He gives in to small impulses, pressing his muzzle forward again to lip playfully at her cheek, focused golden eyes never leaving hers.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.