The years came and went like the rhythmic turn of tides. Dragonglass had known Daey was within the Tundra realm when she had briefly visited, debating to stay or not but but the onyx woman had melted away with the previous year snowfall.
The slender limbs had carried her through the different parts of Beqanna. The slick black mare had learned it's secrets, whispered it's name. In that time she did not call not other stallion her man nor share his bed. She allowed the wild to be her mistress, her heart to guide her. And so now in the midst of a cloudless blue day does the dark eyes gaze over one fine wither and over the curve a chiseled hip to see the familiar form of the ghost that once kept her.
The tigress does not startle in fact she is forced of obsidian and iron. Her nerves are steeled and her tongue had grown barbed. She is the daughter of the long dead pumpkin king, a bastard and a mongrel. Covet's manifestation begins to seep into her veins, pulsating through her body as the once tender parts of her now harden like fired glass.
"Daey." Her voice is the only softness that seemed to remain, recognizable from the stupid and naive girl she had once been. Her tongue rakes his name like hot coals through her throat, gazing at him with a refusal to look away. He has changed too. Grown, aged.
And it suited him well.
Dragonglass hesitates a moment, unsure how this conversation should go on...if even. But the dark mare decides to purse. "How have you been?" The syllables flow like molasses, thick and rich. Her dark eyes trace his shape against the thick sea of grass. Where youth once filled his form now stood the time hardened stallion, muscled and strong.
Dragonglass