His nostrils flare as she says his name and she finds something delightful in that, in irritating such a stallion who has darkened her doorstep. He does not buy into her sweetness and that too is pleasing. For while she is a bright and friendly thing it does not mean that she is purely as sweet as the scent that ingrains itself in the dark strands of her hair. They regard each other with equally sharp gazes and she thinks for a moment that he might leave. Disappointing if he went but she would not follow him back amongst the trees. She would let him go if that’s what he wished. She was not one to chase anything when they all so willingly came to her anyways.
He would find it hard to pry the fear from beneath the scent of flowers. She was far from simple, far from soft, and far from stupidly brave. But he could find the darkness within her as surely as she might discover the darkness within him. Everyone carries shadows and only a fool thinks them exempt from trauma. Only a fool will deny the imprint of pain. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind what he could inflict on her. Perhaps he would be surprised to see what she could take or even more so what she could give back.
There is a flicker of disappointment in the depths of gold when he holds back the moniker he had previously used for her but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Instead she keeps the whisper of a smile on her lips as he speaks of where he lives, the Forest. A dark and eerie place, those woods. Fitting, she thinks, for the likes of him. He moves closer to her and she is suddenly very still but her golden eyes never waver from him. He’s so close that she can smell the scent of pine and earth and something mustier. He rumbles as if displeased, displeased that she can read so much of him while he still searches for the parts of her beneath the flowers.
Her gaze inspects the markings on his neck, traces over the patterns on his shoulders, before looking back at him. Did she like it there? A slight shiver runs through her again, noticeable to him now that he has closed so much distance between them, as he calls her a “gregarious thing”. It’s no “little unicorn” but it’s enough. A soft laugh, silvery as it dances around them. “It’s a home.” She admits, for she has no qualms about Taiga and Yanhua and his family had been accepting enough. “But I miss the darkness of the jungle.” She responds quietly and lowers her head demurely. Just enough for the sharp tip of her horn to graze against his throat latch. A warning or an invitation? Perhaps both.
“I’ve heard all sorts of things live in the Forest.” Her voice still quiet and her head remains lowered, looking up between long lashes and a glint in her tarnished gaze. “What kind of thing are you, I wonder.”
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Bardot![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)