Parvati looked just as good then as she had last fall. Crimson eyes hugged every swaying curve of the painted champagne's body as she trotted in his direction. He noted the child that tottered on her heels-- an exquisite carbon copy of her mother. A note of pleasure coursed through the stallion at the miraculous life that started when he and Parvati met last.
A deep chuckle thrummed through the stallion's chest cavity at the pet name she'd given him. Carthage drank in the scent of her perfume. His dark lips brushed feather-light kisses across Parvati's skin. The dark length of his tail arched showily, crimped strands burnished into a deep red-brown in the sunlight.
"Parvati, my dear, you look simply divine," he purred. "And she," the Friesian remarked, gaze dipping to the young filly, "is exquisite."