Perhaps if Hyacinth was any other mare she'd feel like prey standing there alone on the beach, knowing the trail she had spun would no doubt entice the predator lurking in the shadows of the jungle, but she was raised differently; molded to fit society in a different way.

She never liked to think, to reminisce on the past, and the way her dam had treated her as an extension of her brother jaskier. The pair were thick as thieves despite the harsher way they'd been brought up, but given who their father was it was to be expected. Most girls dreamed of finding ‘the one’, brains turned to mush as they stumbled over themselves to appease males left and right. Hyacinth can't help the lip curl at such a ridiculous notion, glaring down into the image looking back at her. Never had she thought or wanted to ‘appease’ her males. They played the same game she did in the end, a tit for tat sort of play that gave her such beautiful children to sprinkle around.

Yet for someone so noncommittal why oh why did she continue to find herself in the presence of her hardest bur to shake. She'd be lying to herself by saying he was nothing special, just another notch on the bedpost, a warm body that coincidentally felt nice alongside hers; she utters a sigh into the warm caressing air, lifting her gaze at last from looking over the tired lines on her face in the water and to the approaching form of the wolf in question. She notes his pace, slow and stalking as though she'd take flight at any moment and he'd be all too eager to give chase. She is tempted, glancing almost lazily around them and weighing the potential amount of escape routes she had at her disposal, but that temptation dims when he opens his mouth and being what she is can't help the snark that bites back at him.

“A cat? I didn't know my curly eared lover was back,” she tosses back at him, neck arching in an almost chin to chest move as if showing off to her invisible past lover and lashes lowering to veil the humor dancing in her eyes, knowing that alone would give away the game too soon. An exaggerated rolling of her shoulders and she drops the metaphorical knife she'd chosen to stab him with. Kitty boy was a sore subject, he'd been first to give her a beautiful son, but hadn't stuck around unlike the male currently eying her like his next meal; Annubis was somehow winning with that small detail. “Looking a little bedraggled there handsome,” the mask changes to one of a sly fox, raising her head into the space between them and giving him a delicate sort of sniff, “work up a sweat coming to me?”. He smelled of the earth and yet somehow sweet from a flower or maybe it was a fallen fruit he'd stepped upon trying to find her in the mess of a trail she'd laid out for him. Point for Hyacinth.

“Home is where i choose to be,” a nonchalant look around, “it just so happens I am rather fond of this jungle”. And the very male who haunts her dreams. The words are there, and yet she can not say them, won't or else she'd be the very thing she always detested.

mare - 8 - mutt - 16.0hh