Though she watches the moon, she has turned away to speak to him, and does not miss then tension in his jaw as she reminds him of his captivity. He is not nearly as grateful as he should be, but no one ever is. Djinni has not spent a lifetime giving others what they wanted without learning to spot those that are unhappy with what they have.
There are no caves here, but nor is there a Nayl. She’d thought, briefly, that being free of her was what the black stallion wanted. Her motivation hadn’t been entirely altruistic, but she’d held onto that until recently. Until Nayl came.
She wonders if the queen had stopped denying him, she does not know what will happen if she asks. There are too many ways it could go wrong, and so she stays quiet, watching as he stands, comes closer.
A chuckle escapes as he suggests breaking up the monotony, but when she turns to him there’s only amusement in her dark eyes; there is no lust.
At first she doesn’t move as he touches her, only lets him offer and gives every indication that she is listening. Raising her head, she presses her own muzzle against his jaw, sliding back along his neck as she steps forward. He is warmer than she expected, the water on his coat far more temperate than that in the pond at their feet. He is taller than she is, but she makes herself tall enough, sliding her pale neck around his until her right side is pressed to the entire length of his left and her muzzle rests directly below his right ear.
Her breath is warm, and she takes a breath, ready to say…
Nothing. Instead she whinnies, extremely loudly, into his ear and prances away with a jaunty smile and an expression that very clearly says: How’s that for some noise?
slim build
white with with mane and tail
sea green eyes