Anger dances like the sparks of a flame behind her glittering silver eyes. Raven-tipped ears perk forward at the deep, rugged baritones of the stallion’s voice. A voice that she had found thrilling only a few seasons ago, especially when the crooning of his voice had reverberated against her skin.

However now….

The cockiness in his words is infuriating.

Flutes disappear beneath the curling tendrils of her obsidian mane as the painted beast sidles closer, his muscular form weary but holding a boastfulness in each thrusting of his forward motion. Paper-thin nostrils flare as she releases a dragon’s snort at the punctuation of her name. A name that she had purposefully withheld for mere satisfaction and safety purposes. It’s absence had provided Ryvar with some small measure of safety… at least that was what she had assumed anyway. Albeit he was not wrong, still… the rose-gray mare cannot help but to seethe with fury. He knew her now.

He watches her with an almost lazy gaze as the pale mare pivoted to face him, his dark ears merely flickering at her attempt at a threatening display of prowess. His response… well it left her shocked, to say the least.

’You might be getting old and senile…’ the rest is lost on her. Old?!?! Senile?!?!

Despite years of practice as a dignitary, the surprise on her face is paper thin. Ashen lips part as her mouth falls agape, momentarily at a loss for words. Never in her life had anyone ever called her such. It was true she was closing in on the later years of her prime but old? Senile? Even if she was what he claimed, how dare he speak to her that way! The urge to lunge at him to discipline him in the same manner as she did her children is a very real struggle in that moment and it takes all her willpower to refrain.

He continues as though completely ignorant of his words' effect on her. The cocky grin returns to his handsome features as he flippantly reminds her of how welcoming she had been to his companionship last fall. Touche Defiantly her finely dished facade lifts, staring deadly daggers at the bachelor beast, a title that seemed even more fitting at this moment.

Raven whipcord lashes with renewed indignation as her forelimbs dance with forceful thrusts beneath her. ”Didn’t you mother teach you ANY manners?!?” she snaps, her voice laced with venom. ”It’s not like either of us stuck around long enough to learn names or exchange numbers you simpering mutt!” she continues, giving her proud head a toss to resettle the lacy veil of her obsidian forelock across the flat of her brow. Once more her ice-filled gaze seeks his. ”But best believe had I realized your…. origins.” she spits, ”I would have never spent time in your company.” she sneers, purposefully turning her back on him as if his very presence is no longer worth her company. She might be stuck here for the foreseen future, but that did not mean she had to continue to trade paring blows with the rude albeit still frustratingly (maybe even more so now), handsome splotched stallion.

Khar'pern

The jungle is dark but full of diamonds;