The mismatched colors of his eyes dance mirthfully at her sharp words, lips still poised in the previous smirk. The grullo male offered no further response in what amounted to a brief pause between her words. He observed the change of mood in her with pleasure. It was a ruse no doubt, but Tribulation was a young and eager stallion. It took little from a mare these days to attract his gaze, and any form of flattery, even what he expected to be false, did nothing but encourage him.
The fluttering of her dark lashes makes his heart quicken. Whether it is with pleasure or anticipation, the tovero isn’t certain. Fortunately for Tribulation, he didn't have to know the specificities of his emotions to act on them. A low chuckle rumbles a tad impishly in the heart of his chest and throat, not unlike a purr. It was beginning to feel more like a game of cat-and-mouse now rather than a chase. For the moment, he can resist the temptation to simply rush the mare, snapping at her flanks and tender skin. There was time enough for that. He would simply edge forward for now step-by-step, maybe use the discomfort of personal space to start the true part of the game of herding her south.
"While that may be, my sweet sparrow," he croons smoothly to her, slipping a step and a half closer. "Luck has decided that you are the only lady worthy of my attentions today." The length of his black tail, threaded with silver, swishes languidly. It conveys what he means to exude: casual confidence, assuredness, and patience. The little bay thing did not yet know that Tribulation could not be dissuaded from much of anything. She'd find out soon enough.