Oh, this would be fun.
Like a snarling raccoon, the mare bristles as he invades her space. Fury ignites behind her eyes at the pet name that coos from his lips in droll tones. Lazily, his feral eyes blink at her, emotions carefully hidden beneath the multifaceted layers of his iris. ”What’s the matter poppet? Afraid you might start getting…. Attached if I do?” he purrs, his voice hinging on humor. If she wanted to play silly games, he was all about them. Hyacinth hadn’t stayed with him so long for no reason. He was used to the barbs, and a small part of him even enjoyed it.
She tries to hit him where it might normally affect a stallion… the lack of faces peppering the beach to eagerly greet his victorious return. If it were Rougaru, maybe that would have happened. Hell, the silver-haired stallion would probably have thrown a fit or two in his younger days at the mare’s snarky comment. Annubis…. eh.
A brassy chuckle rumbles deep in his chest as the sterling stallion gives his salt-laden hide a quick shake, his muscular shoulders rolling smoothly in their joint sockets as he proceeds to take a step forward into the stretching shadows of the palm trees that shade the treelined beach. ”Naw sweetie. You will see, the jungle hides more faces than it shows. Best be careful. The prettiest vipers are the most venomous…” he murmured, only half-joking in his warning. While it was true more than not, Annubis did his best to keep his home safe to those who have not yet grown accustomed to its beautiful thorns.
When she stiffens and stills at the brash action of his hot breath on her cheek, the sadistic part of him finds himself wanting to take that extra step. Golden eyes glitter in response to her warning, the muscles in his ashen labrums itching to reach out and test the invisible boundaries she threatens. A cocky grin slips easily into place as the beast dips his broad crown to bring his fierce gaze alongside her own. ”What will you do, little dove? Is your bite as sharp as your tongue?” he taunts.
Nonetheless, the stallion relinquishes, merely standing back and observing as the woman pivots away from him. Raven whipcord lashes lightly against his muscular flanks as she snaps angerily that she would not be one of his mares. ”Says the little bird who is currently one of my mares.” he snips, cocking his hip as predatory eyes follow her retreating form. He toyed with the idea of continuing to needle her, debating the pros and cons of letting her wander aimlessly along the shoreline for a while to cool that feral temper pulsing through her veins. He probably should go after her, but instead, he remains where he stands. Watching and waiting.