The stallion strode quietly along the stretch of pale sand. His steps were sure, in spite of the grit that shifted beneath Carthage's hooves. Movement drew his attention. A pale mare came to stand on the sands some distance away, followed by a younger bay sabino. Easily, a pleased expression loosed the knit of his brows and brought a smile across his dark maw. He didn't need to come closer to know it was Clio with their daughter Terpsichore in tow.
Upon his approach, his pearl gravitated toward him. She made her pleasure known to him, the curl of her tones winding in his ears, at their being back on Atlantis. Certainly the jungle was preferable to the arid climate of Salem. Her opinion had had no true bearing on the decision to return, but it pleased the Friesian-influenced male nonetheless that her opinion naturally aligned with his. The feel of her pressed against his side led Carthage to allow the pale lady a moment to take her liberties. Her lips brushed against the flesh of his neck as she worked at a knot, then against his jaw as she bade him show her around their new home.
Carthage hummed his approval at her touch. "Clio," he murmured huskily. A low laugh thrummed from deep within him. "The Ridge is more mountainous than Paradise, but no less appealing. Made all the more lovely by your beauty." The satin skin of his lips sought her out, seeking to press to the curve of her cheek and trace to the hollow of her pale throat. Carthage couldn't help but enjoy this push and pull that existed between them.