[mature] the girl she's hiding horns; brunhilde

[Leokadia]

she got blood cold as ice
and a heart made of stone

There in the shallows she wants to reach out and touch Brunhilde, and the flame comes closer like she knows. Leokadia rarely touches others, only when it serves a purpose, gets her something she needs. It is now, when she is looking steadily into those seductively hooded golden eyes that she realizes she hasn’t touched another horse in years beyond the meaningless bumps of one muzzle against another or a bit of violence to warn away the unwelcome. You don’t know if you want to fuck me? There is an unfamiliar ache in low in the cremello’s belly and she turns her ears back but they flick forward again immediately. She’s drawn a sharp breathe but steadies herself, her heart stuttering again. Brunhilde moves on before she can say anything but her mind has closed around that moment and turns it over and over as they continue to speak.

A missing mane does draw attention, so she is unsurprised that Brun brings it up. What is strange is not being asked where it is, where it went. “No.” The single word without inflection or hesitation, and then Leokadia absently arches her short delicate neck to better display its absence. “The plague took it when I was a child.” Then, pulling her focus from her strange bare-headedness she looks steadily at Brunhilde. “I know I am attractive. No one has told me before.” She looks like her mother, she knows that her mother was beautiful. It has been meaningless until now, a tool she has not learned to operate. “What else do you like? Why am I attractive?” Curious, probing, displaying that almost vicious hunger for information. Too she wants to hear her it, to listen to the rise and fall of Brunhilde's voice and find out how much she likes. Wading closer, water lapping softly around their slender legs. “You are more than beautiful. Do a lot of...do a lot of girls want to touch you?”

Brunhilde hasn’t even answered and Leokadia already feels a clench of jealousy threading through her curiosity. You don't know if you want to fuck me? No, but she wants to find out. Whatever happens between her last question and the moment Leokadia decides to reach out only makes her hungrier for the taste of the flame colored cheek beneath her lips, warm, soft, no more yeilding then her own. She nips the curve of the other girls jaw, unable to help herself. 

but she keeps me alive
she's the beast in my bones

Leokadia

@[brunhilde]