Anger looked good on her, he thought. The lines of her face seemed made to be cut of stone, and her eyes burned when rage settled in them. A longing drew up inside him as her ears pinned ever tighter against her skin, practically disappearing amongst her deep black hair. A longing not to arch his neck and posture for her attention and hopeful approval, but a want to show her the strength he possessed. Had he a home to drive her to - customs of a peaceful Falls be damned - he would have done all he could to nip and bully her to wherever it was. A shiver went down his spine and his smile deepened with a hungry edge.
When she spoke, he found her voice matched her well. It, too, carried a bite, even when spoken low as to not rouse a sleeping newborn. Her initial comment got a chuckle out of him which, to Vane, was a surprise. Until his arrival at the islands, mares had been understood as nothing more than pawns and trading chips. Yet his first step into the Thicket had Naydra teaching him that he had come into a different world entirely.
“Well,” he rumbled with a soft return, “maybe if you didn’t feel so damn good…” The eye showing beneath his long sweep of brown hair seemed to grow a bit brighter. It was clear he was overall amused with this exchange, head held at a rather comfortable height and ears perked curiously toward her.
Come a little closer… well, he had thought the burn of anger sounded perfect in her voice, but that soft, sultry beckoning took him briefly by surprise. As she glanced him over, Vane found himself conscious of every inch her eyes touched as though she was gently trailing her lips there instead. He grunted under his breath, mainly to keep himself steady and firmly planted, unwilling to fall so easily for her wiles. And we can answer your question once and for all.
His eyes flicked deliberately down, behind her, where that little foal slept. He could hardly see its shape now, blocked by her mother’s carefully placed legs. Despite his rather… aggressive means of taking what he wanted, Vane had never been known to hurt a child. He had reason enough, though he kept it buried.
As his gaze snapped back up to her eyes, he wondered how far she might go to strike at him. It was more fun, he decided, to challenge her and see what he could get away with before she’d tire of his games and attack him. Would she? Was she foolish enough? A lone mare, defenseless with a newborn babe on the ground, cornered by a much larger, far more rested stallion… He wondered how hot that anger inside her burned.
His wide hooves parted the grasses with a deliberate yet still soft sound of the blades parting and his thick hair shifting through the grass as he moved forward. He did not move all at once, but only put one foreleg out, then picked up one of his back and set it closer; the stallion waited only a fraction of a second before he lifted his other front leg and managed to move himself closer. It was almost surprising how gracefully he could move despite his heft.
There was still a cushion of space between them, he hadn’t challenged her move that much, only closed what distance she added to their space when she shifted backwards, closer to her child. Vane paused there and tilted his head, watching her.
“Why don’t you come over here and I can remind you how good it feels?” He propositioned, purposefully being as much of an ass as he could be - which was clear in the way his grin grew after he spoke.
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