She is like a dove, alighting for the first time on the branches of a Kapoke tree just above his head. Paper-thin nostrils quiver as silently the beast exhales a breath, wanting to turn his gaze on her beautiful face but afraid the movement might send her fluttering back up into the higher branches to hide among the thick foliage. Keenly, he is aware of her warmth as she moves to stand at his side, her emerald gaze cast out over the bright arrays of colors the gods have chosen to paint this sunset with. Like with the feathered birds, he longs to touch her, to feel the softness of her skin against his sensitive lips if only for a moment, to say he had. All he needs do is reach out. All he needs to do is touch….

And yet he does not. He will not risk it.

Although her wounds are concealed beneath different layers, the sterling beast recognizes the same vulnerabilities in her eyes that hide behind layers of indifference and self-preservation.

Although he himself never spent much time with the bachelor stallions that called the Lagoon home, Annubis had grown up hearing the stories. They were… different in their treatment of mares. Although he personally rather liked the painted Khyber for his sharp wit, he was not foolish enough to think the stallion was above such rumors. There is always that one grain of truth right?

’...Is it always like this?...’ her soft voice is barely audible above the rolling lap of waves as the white-capped foam stretches further up the shoreline, leaving the sands glistening in their wake. Even before he turns his golden gaze to meet her searching eyes, he can feel them on him. The curiosity is palpable.

A warm smile, genuine and honest, tugs at the corners of his whiskered lips as the sterling stallion tilts his head toward her. ”It can be….” he murmured, blinking his dark lashes at her warmly before reverting his gaze once again to the peaceful sunset as the red and orange hues deepened to maroon and purple hues. The urge to touch her silken cheeks burns too near the surface for him to risk continuing to gaze into those innocent eyes longer. The chill of the ocean zephyr’s tug at the straying strands of his obsidian mane as the muscular stallion shifts his weight, offering his broad form to break the worst of the rising chill from her. ”Do…. Do you like it here?” he asks, his voice almost timid in comparison to the usual snark and dry sense of humor.