How long had it been since Vianne had taken up residence within this sanctuary? Two years? So many moons and suns had passed over the little Arabian unicorn. With time she too had passed through certain transgressions on her own, marking a little piece of territory within her Alpha's and ensuring her own survival. The brain lesions had been long healed and so were the seizures by a healer that had traveled through and found her on the cusp of death. Vianne had molded into a fierce female, warding and fighting other threats and stallions off with the long horn which now sat proudly on top of her head. With the pale contrast of her porcelain skin, her mouth looked full and sensual as though one kiss from her lips would stir the lingering memory of sweetly smelling roses. Her body was irresistibly slender and thin, but like a velvet glove smoothed over an iron hand, there remained yet another deception: the smoldering intensity of her provocative eyes always courting a sense of weariness, the lusty prowess in which her hips sashayed, driving the stake of fear into the hearts of mortal men and seducing the eyes of gods with each dancing step. Oh, and how in even her most vulnerable times when she was alone to fend for herself, would she stretch luxuriously, bring the taut poise into a rich proposal of strength, of controlled power - a beautiful dagger, wrapped in svelte velvet, and yet, not any less sharp for all the jewels it possessed on it's manicured hilt.
Vianne had always believed that there was going to be a time that she would have to face a new stallion and perhaps challenge him like she had so many who dared to trespass upon her little safe coven. Her little carved out piece of land was tucked far from the reaches of the other mares that now cowed this place, finding no common interests with neither of them, it was her submissiveness to Phaedrus which tethered this mare to these lands, so much that she had kept her chastity and her faithfulness to the large dark Stallion. Even though he abandoned her so long ago, there was a bleak of hope that he would soon remember the once little broken mare with a broken horn and a broken spirit. Her features distorted as her ears became alert with the sounds of something large approaching her. Standing by the stream Vianne stomped and bucked forward into the water with her long horn seething through the air with sheer defining athleticism. The water from her stomping splashed a melancholic temperament up her stilt like legs, causing the whiteness of color to dull a shade lower. It was breeding season and Vianne understood what this meant. Being in heat Vianne felt a surge of fire in the wells of her essence, a need to become something more than just his humbled servant, with wishful dreams of romanticism even if it was with Phaedrus's ghost, the poor mare chased them. There was always a longing hope that he'd return to her. In her own rights she was quite a matriarch, a second to his growing herd and she was ready to keep her place, even fight for it.
It wasn't until she recognized his voice, the familiar smell that came from him; had she became still and centered in the crust of her little stream. Waiting for him as if she was nothing more than a his humbled servant. Even her head lowered with her ears pinned softly back against her skull as she took a tender step forward towards him and into deeper water. At first she thought this was nothing more than her mind playing wild assumptions and tricks. Her voice mewed out his name a little cautiously as her heart tamed, blood felt over-warming as if from one look from him, burned her cheeks gasping red while her knees buckled in glee at his sight. The long horn seemed perfectly chiseled from an blazing star, shimmering against the warm sun. Poor thing had suffered through trials of loneliness, doubt, and through her own illness, but like any diamond, one had to be molded out of coal and fire. She hoped that his return was going to be a permanent one now. So tired of this unquenchable lust for life and for affection. Looking at the bob cat Vianne snorted with distress through her nose as she pawed at the water with a sharp cunning hoof to test its presence and its temperament. It wouldn't be the first time the mare had endeavors with such creatures. She laid no trust in creatures that had sharp teeth and sharper claws. Interested in it's whereabouts she kept a keen eye on its location. Whens he felt safe to take another step forward she lowered her head even further down towards the war- riddled warrior.
" Is that really you?" She asked in a strained voice mixed in with desperateness.
Vianne had always believed that there was going to be a time that she would have to face a new stallion and perhaps challenge him like she had so many who dared to trespass upon her little safe coven. Her little carved out piece of land was tucked far from the reaches of the other mares that now cowed this place, finding no common interests with neither of them, it was her submissiveness to Phaedrus which tethered this mare to these lands, so much that she had kept her chastity and her faithfulness to the large dark Stallion. Even though he abandoned her so long ago, there was a bleak of hope that he would soon remember the once little broken mare with a broken horn and a broken spirit. Her features distorted as her ears became alert with the sounds of something large approaching her. Standing by the stream Vianne stomped and bucked forward into the water with her long horn seething through the air with sheer defining athleticism. The water from her stomping splashed a melancholic temperament up her stilt like legs, causing the whiteness of color to dull a shade lower. It was breeding season and Vianne understood what this meant. Being in heat Vianne felt a surge of fire in the wells of her essence, a need to become something more than just his humbled servant, with wishful dreams of romanticism even if it was with Phaedrus's ghost, the poor mare chased them. There was always a longing hope that he'd return to her. In her own rights she was quite a matriarch, a second to his growing herd and she was ready to keep her place, even fight for it.
It wasn't until she recognized his voice, the familiar smell that came from him; had she became still and centered in the crust of her little stream. Waiting for him as if she was nothing more than a his humbled servant. Even her head lowered with her ears pinned softly back against her skull as she took a tender step forward towards him and into deeper water. At first she thought this was nothing more than her mind playing wild assumptions and tricks. Her voice mewed out his name a little cautiously as her heart tamed, blood felt over-warming as if from one look from him, burned her cheeks gasping red while her knees buckled in glee at his sight. The long horn seemed perfectly chiseled from an blazing star, shimmering against the warm sun. Poor thing had suffered through trials of loneliness, doubt, and through her own illness, but like any diamond, one had to be molded out of coal and fire. She hoped that his return was going to be a permanent one now. So tired of this unquenchable lust for life and for affection. Looking at the bob cat Vianne snorted with distress through her nose as she pawed at the water with a sharp cunning hoof to test its presence and its temperament. It wouldn't be the first time the mare had endeavors with such creatures. She laid no trust in creatures that had sharp teeth and sharper claws. Interested in it's whereabouts she kept a keen eye on its location. Whens he felt safe to take another step forward she lowered her head even further down towards the war- riddled warrior.
" Is that really you?" She asked in a strained voice mixed in with desperateness.